A Tale of Two Elves
by hlmsluvr
Summary: This is an AU story about Lord Thranduil and Lady Ellyria (OC). It takes place pre BOTFA and will reference events in the Hobbit. I don't own any Tolkien characters nor am I a Tolkien scholar. Much of the elven cultural references are made up to suit the plot and further their story. What happens when two proud but flawed elves are thrown together? Come with me and find out!
1. The Arrival of Eastwood

The Arrival of Eastwood

"We are nearing the edge of Mirkwood, my lady," shouted Felinor, her captain, over the thundering of their horses' hooves.

"We did not chase this orc rabble from our lands to leave them on the doorstep of another!" Lady Ellyria called back.

Felinor nodded in his silvery helm and motioned for the guards following close behind to press on.

As they neared the rocky outcropping and low stone wall at the edge of the forest, Lady Ellyria slowed her horse, waiting for the appearance of the woodland elves to cut them down.

The thirty strong orc pack scrambled up the smooth boulders and past the stone wall unchallenged, disappearing from view on the other side.

"Where are the guards?" wondered Felinor next to his lady.

"Quickly!" cried Ellyria, spurring her horse into flight up the steep hill to give chase.

Through the woods her company raced after the orcs, the light growing more and more dim and the trees gathering closer and closer.

"We may have to abandon the horses," shouted Felinor, correcting his horse as it stumbled over a knotty tree root and tried to get its footing on creeping moss.

Ellyria frowned through her helm at the orcs that were still outrunning them as her horse slowed, more afraid of its surroundings and less sure of its footing.

"Halt and dismount!" called Ellyria as her horse lurched and nearly threw her over his head.

She quickly tossed the reins of her horse around a wayward branch and bolted forward again after the receding sound of the orcs, her men close behind her.

Once on foot, the elves rapidly closed the distance to those they hunted. Even were they not elves, the sounds of another battle gradually reached their ears. Mid stride, Lady Ellyria pulled her twin blades and those who followed her did the same.

The forest closed in around them as the elves raced toward a break in the treeline ahead, flashes of sunlight twinkling through the thick leaves and branches.

Lady Ellyria and her captain burst through the foliage together.

The orc pack they had been chasing had run into the backs of another that were fighting a small ring of Mirkwood elves ranged before a low stone dais with a large carven archway leading off in the opposite direction. A lone elf stood atop the dais, the only one without armor, his thin sword pointed to the ground, his pale gaze fixed on the battle before him.

The first few orcs fell easily beneath the Eastwood blades in the confusion. Ellyria and Felinor swirled through the creatures avoiding each other's blades with sure movements borne of fighting side by side for hundreds of years. Once over their initial surprise however, with howls of anger, the orcs tried to regain their ground from the Eastwood elves. As Lady Ellyria and her men fought them, they began to back into the orcs who were trying to gain the dais, pushing them closer to the dwindling number of Mirkwood soldiers ranged across the stairs.

"Fall back and let them come to us!" cried Ellyria in elven, taking a few measured steps in the opposite direction.

With excited grunts, the orcs surged over what they thought was lost ground.

"Kill them all," commanded the Lady, "I will help defend the dais."

She flitted off to the side back into the treeline before Felinor could reply. Keeping the battle to her left, Ellyria raced lightly over the roots and stones until she was halfway up the hill the dais was built into. She paused and drew her bow, pulling an arrow in one fluid motion and crept forward.

Through the leaves, she could see the battle turning; the orc numbers dwindling though still enough to cause concern. Suddenly, a spear shot through the air and pierced the chest of the Mirkwood elf closest to her. The elf guarding the archway flicked his blade up to defend and took a step forward as several orcs rushed up the stairs to the opening.

"Stay back!" called Ellyria to the pale haired elf, as she strode forward to fell the two orcs. He glanced at her in surprise and paused but did not lower his blade.

She took two more orcs down before shouldering her bow and drawing her twin blades once more. Ellyria held the stairs before her, black blood spraying from the shrieking orcs who fell beneath her swords. Beyond the stairs, she could see the Eastwood elves had nearly dispatched the orcs they had been hunting and had advanced again to clear away the rest. No more than fifteen remained, still roaring and fighting.

An elven exclamation behind her caused her to glance to her right. The Mirkwood elf on the opposite end of the dais had been stabbed, overpowered by a group of three. He was thrown down and the orcs bounded up the steps and onto the dais. In her periphery at the edge of her helm, the pale haired elf moved to intercept them, his blade raised.

Ellyria was too engaged with foes before her to assist and the other elves stood their ground.

Then several things happened all at once.

The lone elf turned his back to the stairs to finish off the last orc.

At the base of the stairs, the largest remaining orc bellowed and threw his ax. It hurtled through the air in a deadly, unpredictable path.

Ellyria killed the orc trying to get past her and saw the spiralling ax; its intended victim with his back now turned to the stairs. Without thinking, she dashed toward the pale haired elf, his viciously fluid movements foretelling the end of his enemy.

He was just starting to turn toward her, having sliced the throat of the final orc, when she leapt and kicked him hard in the side, pushing him clear of the unseen danger.

The elf let out a startled sound and swiped reflexively at her with his blade. Mercifully, he missed her.

The ax did not.

It caught her low on the right side, driving her back into one of the stone pillars of the archway. Her back cracked sharply against the stone, the blackened blade biting through her armor and into her skin, driving the breath from her lungs. Her helm twisted so she did not see the wide eyed concern of the pale haired elf. He had not lost his footing when she kicked him, merely slid back a few paces. He moved toward her to remove the ax when an orc charged him.

The pale haired elf barely glanced at the creature before offering one deadly swipe of his sword and the orc knew no more.

As that orc fell, a silence crept over the glade; the battle had ended.

Lady Ellyria was pushing at the ax handle with her right hand and trying to get her helm off with her left. She could feel the edge of the blade burning and stinging her just above the hip.

"Do not move," requested the pale haired elf, sheathing his blade with one last glance behind him.

A stab of pain took the words from Ellyria's lips; all that came out was a gasp.

The elf wrapped his hands in his cloak and then gripped the ax and pulled. Ellyria felt it give a little but it did not come free.

She recognized the hurried footsteps of her captain racing up the stairs toward her.

The elf beside her gave one last pull and the foul blade came free from the stone.

Captain Felinor threw off his helm and ran to his lady's side as she pulled off her own helm.

"Lady Ellyria," breathed Felinor, as she blinked up at the sunlight and caught her breath.

The elf she had saved tossed away the ax and looked down sharply at the mention of her name with a frown.

"I'm well," whispered Ellyria accepting his hand to help her up.

When she had gained her feet, Ellyria met the searching blue eyed gaze of the lone elf. His long white hair barely ruffled from the fight and his green robe still looked immaculate.

"Forgive me, I did not know if you saw the ax," apologized Ellyria, stumbling over her words a little.

Felinor cleared his throat nervously.

"Lady Ellyria, may I present Lord Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Woodland realm. My lord, this is Lady Ellyria, Lord Morgaine's daughter, of Eastwood," introduced Felinor, keeping hold of his lady's arm.

Ellyria's head snapped around to look at her captain in shock and horror. Then slowly, she turned back to look at the king.

"My lord, I…" but words failed her as her stomach turned over and the wound from the ax flared.

She caught her breath and bent slightly with a wince.

That seemed to decide the Elven King.

"Proper introductions can be made when you are out of danger," he said dismissively.

He swept away from her, calling instructions to his remaining men.

"That is the king?" asked Ellyria breathlessly. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment almost as deeply as the ax wound in her side.

"Yes. Do not think on it now. We must get you back to Eastwood, my lady. Your wound needs immediate attention," said Felinor quietly, ripping a corner from her cloak and helping push it up under her armor to stem the growing red stain.

Ellyria glanced down at the ax.

"That is a Morgul blade," she whispered, understanding the twisting, burning sensation in her side.

Before she had time for another thought, a magnificent brown Elk trotted across the dais and came to a halt before her. On his back sat Lord Thranduil with his hand extended toward her.

"Come. Your wound will be seen to and your men will be welcome in my hall while you recover," said Lord Thranduil. The disinterested tone in his voice worried her but, with a glance at her captain, she accepted his hand and mounted the elk behind the king

She bit back an exclamation of pain as her wound stretched with the movement but it became bearable again as she settled behind him.

He turned his head to the side while she climbed on and then, without another word, the elk strode forward across the dais, through the stone archway and into the dim forest beyond. Though there was a path, the reaching branches stretched toward them in a way that made Ellyria uneasy. The sunlight disappeared from view overhead and the air around them grew thick and quiet once more.

Ellyria balanced easily on the broad back of the elk but she could feel the strength leaving her legs as the stain on her side grew larger. Carefully, she slid her left hand under her armor and pressed it against the cloth Felinor had used to staunch the blood.

Her hand came away red and dripping.

Another burning, twisting pain shot through her as the poison from the blade crept through her veins. She let out a soft cry and pressed her hand tightly against the wound, bending her head forward.

Thranduil's head snapped to the right at the sound.

"We can move more slowly if that will cause you less pain but I would not advise it," said the king.

"We must hurry, my lord," was all she could manage to get out.

"Put your arm around me," he commanded, turning to face the path ahead once more.

Ellyria hesitated for a split second and then complied. She slid herself closer to him and wrapped her right arm around his middle, his white blonde hair brushing against her cheeks.

To her surprise, he put his own arm over hers and then murmured an elven order to the elk.

It obeyed its master instantly and took off at a speed that would have left Ellyria in a heap on the path had she not been holding onto him. She leaned forward with the king as the elk flew down the broken stone path, avoiding the rocks and roots that had confounded her own horse.

Ellyria tried to catch her breath as the pain grew and darkness began claiming the edge of her vision. She closed her eyes tightly and murmured Aesa's healing chant to try to slow the bleeding and stop the spread of the poison. She felt a slight pressure from Thranduil's hand over hers and the elk seemed to move even faster.

She shut out the the thundering of the elk's hooves and the incessant whispers of the watchful trees flashing past them and focused on her wound and the healing words.

Time stretched on and her legs grew weaker, small beads of perspiration dappling her furrowed brow.

Suddenly, their speed slowed to a quick canter and Ellyria picked up elven voices ahead of them. She stopped chanting and narrowed her focus to her breathing only. Though she opened her eyes, the darkness drew near as they passed beneath the doors to the woodland realm.

The king was speaking rapidly to someone as the elk came to a halt but Ellyria could not concentrate on his words over the growing rushing noise in her ears. Thranduil abruptly removed her hand from his middle and dismounted in one fluid movement. She quickly braced herself on the elk's back before she tipped forward, her vision swimming nauseatingly. The Elvenking touched the elk's furry nose and it sank to the ground low enough that Ellyria's feet almost brushed the stone floor. His hands came into focus before her and she gripped them tightly as she took a breath and swung her leg over the back of the elk to slide slowly off his left flank. She took in the fact that both her feet were on the ground and lifted her eyes up to the king's as she tried to stand.

Ellyria remained conscious long enough to meet the king's gaze, sharp and clear as the winter sky before darkness claimed her in its greedy embrace and she knew no more.

"My lady!" said Lord Thranduil urgently, shifting his grip to lift her easily into his arms before she fell senseless to the ground.

Ellyria's limp form made no reply.

"My lord!" exclaimed a familiar voice from behind him.

Thranduil turned with the unconscious elf in his arms to face his oldest friend and Mirkwood's master healer, Viridian, who was hurrying toward him.

"This is Lady Ellyria of Eastwood. She took a morgul blade to the side. Heal her," commanded the King with no further explanation. He placed her in a waiting flat hammock held up by two other elves next to the healer.

Viridian glanced at the stain on the King's side but merely said," It will be done, my lord."

Thranduil watched anxiously as his elves disappeared with her body.

"My lord, what has happened?" asked Feren, running up to his king.

"We were attacked at the eastern border by a band of orcs. They were joined by another group pursued by the elves of Eastwood who assisted us. I want the eastern border cleansed of these foul creatures and the watch doubled on all borders. All captains will report in immediately. The filth is growing bolder," growled the king, turning and striding away from his captain. "See that the Eastwood elves are provided for while their lady resides here," he called over his shoulder.

Feren bowed to the king's retreating back and hurried to do as he was bid.

The king stalked to his chambers, unclasping his sword belt as he went. Once there, he tossed it on a table and stood before a mirrored wardrobe as several elves entered to help undress him.

"My lord are you wounded?" asked Melia, a diminutive male elf with earthen colored hair and kind brown eyes, who stood hesitantly before the king.

Thranduil slowly turned to look at Melia, as if he had misunderstood him. His countenance cleared when he realized the elf was looking at the stain left behind from holding Lady Ellyria.

"The blood is not mine, Melia," said the king quietly, lifting his chin for the elf to undo the gemstone brooch at his throat.

Melia and two other Silvan elves quickly removed the King's green robe and dressed him in a long, shimmering robe of black and silver. Melia finished combing back the king's hair and then handed him his crown of Mirkwood leaves. Thranduil placed it on his head himself, straightened it and the cuffs of his robe, then swept out. He moved quickly to his throne, his mind in turmoil over the last few hours. Thranduil threw himself onto his throne, tossed one leg over the other and waited for all his captains to check in with a report from their assigned areas.

His river and central road captains were the first to arrive. All was as it should be on those fronts. The captains from the Winding roads had much the same to report. As the captain from the Southern gate approached the throne, helm in hand, Thranduil spotted Captain Felinor and his men being led down a distant path on their way to the guest barracks. He saw Felinor pause and then look directly at him raising his hand to halt his men. They bowed low to the Elvenking before continuing on down the path. Thranduil inclined his head to them as they passed from view.

"It is silent and peaceful at the Southern Gate, my lord. There has been no activity for some weeks now," reported the elf proudly, bowing to his king.

Thranduil nodded and dismissed him.

Feren approached him next.

"My lord, the forest at the Eastern border has been cleared and cleansed as you requested. The guard has been doubled. I beg your forgiveness for our failure to defend our borders and you. Your visit to the Eastern border should not have ended this way," finished Feren, deep with contrition.

"It was not common knowledge that I intended to visit the Eastern border today but I find coincidence a flimsy explanation for that orc pack to breach our lands. Make some enquiries Feren and if another pack is sighted within 10 miles of our borders, I would know of it," requested the king.

"My lord," Feren said, touching his chest while bowing. He turned to leave but Thranduil stopped him.

"Where is my son?"

Feren turned to face the king again.

"He and Captain Tauriel were on patrol on the Northern border, my lord. They will be here shortly," promised Feren.

"Good."

Thranduil dismissed him with a lazy wave but he sat upright as Phaedron, one of Viridian's best healers, approached him apprehensively.

"My lord. Master Viridian wished me to report that Lady Ellyria is alive. She will need to remain in his solar for at least a day hence. I will bring another report if there is any change," announced Phaedron, bowing low.

King Thranduil slowly let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and nodded to the healer. If Viridian was keeping her in his solar the situation was still grave but her being alive would make the letter he had to write to her father less difficult. Marginally.

More guards; more reports. All assuring him that his lands and people were safe. The king wished he could remember a time when he believed that.

Then Legolas and Tauriel were before him.

"You were attacked?" asked Legolas anxiously without preamble. Tauriel remained a few paces behind the prince and bowed.

"A pack of orcs crossed our Eastern border today and nearly overran our guards. You should be more concerned about our inability to defend our lands," replied Thranduil rising and descending the stairs of his throne. "Tauriel, I wish you to personally oversee the training and installment of the doubled guard at that border. Being at peace does not mean we forget how to fight," said the king, the dangerous edge in his voice making her incline her head lower.

"Yes, my lord," replied Tauriel, glancing up to meet his stern gaze.

"You were not hurt I take it," asked Legolas sardonically when Thranduil was finished speaking.

"No I was not. We had assistance from the elves of Eastwood who pursued another band of filth right into our midst. We would have lost many more without their aid," Thranduil informed him.

He paused.

"Lady Ellyria was with the Eastwood elves and was wounded. She will be staying here while she recovers," he added, the crunch of steel and stone resounding in his thoughts.

"What news from the Northern border?" demanded Thranduil before Legolas could say anything else.

"The shadows seem deeper of late and we may have spotted fires far off in the distance near the Black Mountains," reported Tauriel at once.

"May have?" repeated the king with a raised eyebrow, his cold gaze lancing through her.

"It was at the edge of our sight. Neither of us could be certain," interjected Legolas.

"Send scouts. Whether it is more orcs or a restless serpent, I would be prepared," ordered the Elvenking, dismissing his captain with nod.

Tauriel bowed and quickly turned on her heel, leaving the father and son together.

"I am pleased you are unharmed," muttered Legolas, inclining his head in half bow. He walked away from his father before Thranduil could reply and without being dismissed; the only elf in Mirkwood who could do so without repercussion.

The captain from the Western Gate approached the guards at the foot of the throne room and stood respectfully behind Felinor. Felinor turned and gestured for the captain to go ahead of him. The Western Gate captain inclined his head to Felinor and strode forward, passing Legolas on his way out.

Thranduil watched his son greet Felinor and begin a hushed conversation. The king gestured for the captain to come forward and make his report. While the captain was speaking, Legolas suddenly looked over at his father with a concerned frown. He said nothing and dropped his gaze back to the stone floor before bowing low and touching his chest to Felinor as a token of deep gratitude. Felinor returned the gesture and Legolas strode off.

At this time, Thranduil realized that the captain before him had finished speaking - he had repeated the same tale of quiet that the others before him had - and was waiting to be dismissed or given an assignment. Thranduil nodded to him and the captain hurried back to his post.

All his borders were clear and protected as he had ordered but still the king felt uneasy. One group of orcs in a day was unusual but two separate groups on the move? It had been some time since he had seen such numbers together. Thranduil stayed with his head bent, lost in grim thoughts for a time before a gentle voice interrupted him.

"My lord."

Thranduil glanced up and realized Captain Felinor was still waiting by his guards to be admitted to his presence. His head was slightly inclined as if apologizing for interrupting the king's thoughts.

"Come," said Thranduil, straightening to meet him.

"Forgive me, my lord. I would have news of Lady Ellyria," asked the Eastwood elf anxiously.

"I have been told she is alive. When she is moved to her own chambers to recover, you will be informed and may see her," replied the king.

Relief passed over Felinor's face.

"Thank you, my lord. We are in your debt," said Felinor bowing gratefully.

"It is I who am in yours and your lady's," corrected Thranduil with a slight bow. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must send a message to Lord Morgaine."

Felinor bowed but could not hide a grimace. Thranduil had taken a step to walk past him but stopped when he saw the captain's expression.

"Are you injured?"

Felinor's head snapped up and he turned to the king again.

"My apologies again my lord. No I am not wounded. It is merely...that is to say….Lady Ellyria was not supposed to ride out with us this morning. Lord Morgaine will not be pleased," explained Felinor.

"Nor would I be if my kin disobeyed me," replied the king.

Felinor managed a small smile.

"Lady Ellyria is strong willed. He will be displeased but not surprised," Felinor elaborated.

Thranduil regarded him for a moment, thinking before nodding and walking toward Master Viridian's solar. He walked confidently down several winding pathways and up several stone staircases until he paused before a fork in the path. Thranduil hesitated uncertainly before turning left and climbing another staircase to reach an elegantly carved door with a young elf in bright green robes of an apprentice standing off to the right.

The young elf's blue eyes went wide upon seeing the king and he made a hasty bow.

"I wish to speak with Master Viridian," said King Thranduil quietly, pausing before door.

"Yes my lord. I will tell him you are here," replied the elf nervously, slipping past the king and going through the heavy oak door.

He returned quickly and ushered the king inside. Thranduil stepped inside and was struck by the heavy smell of lavender and cloves. The scent brought back a painful memory of Viridian treating his burns from that fiendish black dragon he had fought almost an age ago. Three elves had held him down as his screams rent the air… The king pushed away the memory and walked to the only bed with an occupant at the far end of the room. The warm, golden glow from numerous candles glinted off countless glass jars of herbs and plants and dimmed against the leather spines of row upon row of books. The King walked past several empty beds on his right and stopped before the largest bed on the far wall.

"Good evening, my lord," said Viridian, turning around from his work table on the king's left.

"Viridian," replied the king, nodding respectfully to him, though his eyes did not leave the figure on the bed.

Lady Ellyria lay on her back in the center of the bed surrounded on both sides by soft pillows. She was as pale as moonlight and barely drew breath.

"I was told she was alive," began Lord Thranduil hesitantly.

"And she is, my lord, though that is not the whole truth," confirmed Viridian, placing several vials of pale pink liquid in holders on a work table to the left of the bed.

Before the king could speak, Viridian asked, "Did she by chance use Aesa's Chant on her journey to our doors?"

"Yes, for nearly the entire time we rode. Why?" asked the king, glancing at the healer.

"Ah. Therein lies the conflict. I am convinced had she not done so, she would have died. The lady had lost a great deal of blood and by using that chant, she, in large part, saved herself," explained Viridian softly, coming to stand beside the king.

"But?" prompted the King when Viridian went silent.

"But that is also part of the reason for her current condition. Aesa's Chant slows blood loss and in a mild way begins to repair the damaged flesh. By doing this, she sealed much of the Morgul poison inside of the wound. You are aware of what happens if the poison is not drawn?" asked Viridian.

With a grimace, the king nodded.

"I had to reopen the wound in order to draw out what poison I could. I pulled enough of it from her that there is no danger of her turning but I could not take all of it without killing her. She will be able to purge the rest of it from her body but it will take weeks, perhaps months, for her to regain her full strength again," finished Viridian.

Thranduil took a breath and let it out slowly before speaking.

"I have seen stone with more life in it."

Viridian paused before speaking, regretting the words he had to say next.

"She has crossed into the Veiled Lands, my king. It happened very suddenly when I reopened her wound," said Viridian looking at Thranduil.

Thranduil glanced sharply at his Master healer then slowly back to Lady Ellyria.

"Only half of those who cross into the Veiled Lands return," murmured Thranduil grimly.

Suddenly, Ellyria's head snapped to the right with a soft sound. Her chest rose and fell with her first discernable breath in the king's presence though it sounded labored.

"Those that do not return stay because the Veiled Lands are more peaceful and desirable than our world," explained Viridian moving around to the left side of the bed to stand near Lady Ellyria's head.

Before he could speak again, Lady Ellyria's head tossed sharply to the left with a gasp. A frown creased her brow as her back arched slightly against the bed. Her head started to twitch as she drew in shallow panic breaths. She jerked her right hand free of the coverlet and weakly held it before her as if to ward away a threat.

Viridian gently covered her eyes and brow with one hand and clasped the other she held aloft. He closed his eyes and murmured a few elven words. Ellyria stopped struggling and her breathing became barely audible once more. Viridian opened his eyes and placed her hand back on the bed and removed his other from her brow.

"She has been having these episodes for the last hour. Whatever she is seeing, my lord, it is nothing to keep her there. She will return to this world though I cannot say when," concluded Viridian, hoping that that was enough for the king.

The king was silent for a time, his countenance troubled.

"The blade was meant for me."

Viridian regarded the king.

"I am pleased it did not touch you. While I would not wish pain on anyone, Lady Ellyria does not have a kingdom to look after," reasoned the healer, turning to his work table and picking up one of the vials of pink liquid.

Thranduil frowned.

"Her captain tells me she was not supposed to be with them today," he murmured.

"Then it was lucky for you she was, my lord. Perhaps next time you visit one of the borders, do not go without your armor," suggested Viridian, moving to Lady Ellyria's side once more. He tilted her head back and slowly poured the pink liquid down her throat.

She coughed once then lay still again.

"Perhaps I was careless. Now I must write to Lord Morgaine and tell him that his daughter is safe and healing," said Thranduil, turning away from them both.

"That is not the whole truth, my lord," said Viridian in a listless way, knowing the king would side step his protest.

"That is the story he will read," retorted the King of the Elves striding from the room.


	2. The Awakening

The Awakening

A swirling grey mist clouded Lady Ellyria's vision as she stumbled over roots and rocks in the Veiled Lands. The air was heavy and rank, clogging her lungs with a smoke thick enough to choke her. She was trying to walk through a dark and treacherous wood, the branches reaching out at her. And all around her, there was whispering. Ellyria strained to understand what the bodiless voices were saying but in vain. Every once in awhile, something hissed her name sharply right next to her ear, making her gasp or jump but there was never anything there. She tried to call out but no sound would come from her throat; her would be words evaporated into the mist.

All sense of time was gone. She only knew that she was cold, hungry, tired and frightened. She had been in the forest as long as she could remember; there was no sunlight. She had tried to climb up one of the trees to find the sun or at least get an understanding of how big the forest was but the tree trunk had simply kept going beyond all reason. Ellyria had looked down and nearly fallen. Then, she had simply sat at its base and wept even though it caused a great pain in her side to do so. Something big, black and angry had rushed past where she was sitting, snapping at her with gaping jaws.

And she ran. Ran until she could no longer draw breath. When she stopped to take in her surroundings, Ellyria couldn't even be certain she had moved at all so familiar were the trees and roots.

"I'll go mad here," she whispered at the trees.

They rustled in agreement.

Lady Ellyria sat, trapped between worlds, and thought of her father, of Felinor, and of the King. More black shapes appeared and snapped at her, forcing her to run again out of instinct.

This time, they did not stop; she could not escape them. Always they were behind her; if out of sight then not out of hearing. Their growls and hungry jaws hounded her steps.

Finally, she ducked behind a large tree and pulled a dagger from her belt. She regarded the blade and listened to the beasts drawing ever closer. Ellyria turned the blade toward herself and pressed the tip over her heart. She drew one long, last shaky breath and then with resolve, brought the dagger back hard into her chest. She felt the bite of the blade and then the world went black.

Ellyria sucked a huge panic breath of air into her lungs, her eyes snapping open as she tried to sit upright. The world came sharply into focus and with it, the pain from her wound.

She had a second to take in the softly lit room made of stone and the two elves speaking quietly at the foot of her bed who turned to look at her in shock before she fell back with a cry.

"My lady! No, lie back. You are safe," said the male elf, moving quickly to her side and pressing her shoulder down gently so she could not move.

"Where…" was all she managed to gasp out, keeping her eyes shut against the light.

"You are in Mirkwood, my lady; in the halls of Lord Thranduil. I am glad you came back to us," said Viridian, kindly in a low, soothing voice.

The elf maiden had gone to a table on the other end of the room and retrieved a small vial of light blue liquid. She came to stand beside Viridian and handed him the vial.

"My name is Viridian. This is Pela; she has offered to tend to you while you reside in Mirkwood as the King's guest," explained Viridian, when Lady Ellyria could get her eyes to focus on him.

"I have something that will take care of the pain if you are feeling any," offered the healer, showing her the vial.

Ellyria nodded weakly, barely able to stay conscious through the stabbing pain in her side.

Viridian helped her raise her head up off the pillow enough so that she could drink the vial without choking. Warmth flooded through her and the pain immediately dulled to an ache.

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes again.

Viridian nodded to her though she could not see him. He went over to a table at the far end of the room that held his notes.

"How long have I been gone?" asked Lady Ellyria, as her racing heart calmed.

"Four days it has been since you were brought into my care," replied Viridian, without looking up from the notes he was making at the far table.

Ellyria's eyes snapped open.

"Four days! My father...I need to write to him…" she persisted, trying to raise herself up on one elbow again.

"Be easy, my lady. Lord Thranduil has written to your father. When you are well enough to sit up, you may write to him," soothed Pela, gently pressing her back to the bed as Viridian had a moment earlier. Ellyria focused on her for the first time and was struck by the woman's violet colored eyes and the longest brown hair of any elf Ellyria had seen.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?" asked Pela, touching Ellyria's hand lightly.

"Both" said Ellyria breathily, her eyes fluttering closed again.

Pela immediately left her and returned with some bread a small goblet of water.

Though Pela had to hold the glass, Ellyria was able to drink her fill. Pela tore small bits of bread from the loaf and placed them in Ellyria's hand. She managed to raise her arm to her mouth three times before her strength ran out.

"I am so tired," she breathed, wanting to be annoyed but not having the will sustain the emotion. "But I am afraid to sleep. It was so cold…"

Ellyria trailed off, trying to push the memories of the Veiled Lands from her tired mind.

"You have returned to the land of the living, my lady. There is no danger of you slipping back to the Veiled Lands. Rest peacefully," Viridian assured her, rising and coming to stand at the foot of her bed.

"Before you sleep, my lady if I might ask a question?" he pressed, watching her pale face hopefully.

Ellyria managed to nod.

"How did you come back?"

Ellyria swallowed as she felt the darkness descending on her once more.

"I thrust a dagger through my heart."

Pela's worried gaze met Viridian's thoughtful one as Ellyria passed into the deep dreaming state of elves.

"When she wakes again, more food and water. She will be very weak for days. No wine," cautioned Viridian.

Pela nodded.

"Only one vial per day?" she asked, before Viridian left.

"Yes. No more than one," confirmed Viridian, turning to leave.

Viridian opened the door to Lady Ellyria's chamber and found himself face to face with Captain Felinor, who looked anxious and alert.

"Master Viridian, did she wake? I thought I heard her…" he trailed off hopefully, looking over the elf's shoulder.

"Yes, captain. She has returned to us but is extremely weak. You may see her tomorrow for a short time if you wish it. Lady Ellyria will still need a great deal of rest. Pela will send for you when she is awake," offered Viridian, closing her door behind him.

"I will be here," promised the captain, standing aside to let the healer pass him.

Viridian nodded and moved past the worried elf, walking quickly toward Lord Thranduil's evening room.

He found the King lounging in a chair with a scroll and a glass of wine.

"My lord. May I disturb you for a moment?" asked the master healer, bowing.

"Please do. This missive is not holding my attention," he sighed, and tossed the paper back onto the table.

"It's Lady Ellyria, my lord; she has returned to us," said the healer proudly.

Thranduil's eyes snapped up.

"She regained consciousness, briefly, less than an hour past," Viridian explained, coming closer to the King.

"What did you do to bring her back?" asked the King, rising and moving to pour the other elf a glass of wine.

"Nothing. She brought herself out of it," confessed Viridian, accepting the wine.

"How?" asked the King, settling in his chair once again, although one eyebrow remained raised.

Viridian took a sip of wine and thought about his next words.

"I asked her that before she lost consciousness again. She said she drove a dagger into her heart," said the healer quietly.

Thranduil frowned.

"I have never heard of such a thing. The old writings make it sound like a choice that one can make and they will be allowed to return," the King murmured, perplexed.

"I think everything about her experience differed greatly from any texts available about the Veiled Lands. She mentioned that it was dark and cold; there was fear in her voice, my lord. I do not think it was the idyllic place the old stories paint."

"So she was trapped in this nightmare realm and sought so desperately to escape it that she risked taking her own life?" summarized Thranduil, the wine paused halfway to his lips.

"As you say, my lord," Viridian confirmed.

"I can speak with her more about it when she has strength enough to give voice to her experience but it may be some days."

Thranduil nodded, the wine finally making it to his lips as he took a thoughtful drink.

"She asked specifically to be able to write to her father," mentioned the healer, setting down his empty glass.

"I have written to Lord Morgaine. He will be relieved to hear that she is recovering well though slowly," said the King, pulling a blank scroll to him.

"You may see her in a day or two if you wish it, my lord," concluded the healer, bowing again.

"Yes, in two days time. Thank you, Viridian," said the King to his healer.

Viridian left the King beginning his letter to Ellyria's father.

The next day was a little easier for Ellyria. She slipped in and out of consciousness without dreading that she would be transported back to the Veiled Lands. More food and water and a very careful bath made up her day.

The day after, Captain Felinor was allowed to see her.

"My lady," he said, with smile coming to stand beside her bed. "How are you fairing?"

Ellyria paused before she spoke and took him in as though she had not seen him for a hundred years. His forest green eyes searched hers anxiously, his thin brown hair draped over his wide shoulders.

"Felinor, it is so good to see you. I'm so sorry I placed you and the others in danger. How many did we lose?" asked Ellyria quietly, gesturing for his to take the seat next to her bed.

"Had you not been there, Ellyria, I would have hunted them down as you did. We lost three elves, Tirien, Arcion and Halthen," finished Felinor, dropping his eyes from hers for the first time since he entered the room.

Ellyria lowered her eyes to her lap and stared at her listless hands.

"Have they been sent back to Eastwood?"

"Yes, Lord Thranduil opened the East road to let our men take them home and delivered a message to your father," replied Felinor.

Ellyria looked up at him.

"The King has closed the roads?" she asked with a slight frown.

"Yes. I think this attack has made him more watchful and less trusting of his own borders. At the moment, no one is allowed to leave," Felinor informed her.

Ellyria's frown deepened.

"Are we prisoners then?" she wondered quietly.

"I think the King would prefer 'guests'," suggested Felinor.

"I see."

"Ellyria, I wish to ask you...that is, there were rumors that….." Felinor tried to articulate his worry.

"You may ask me anything, Felinor, you know that," said Ellyria with a gentle smile.

He allowed her smile to coax one to his own lips.

"Were you in the Veiled Lands? You were unconscious for four days, I could only think that…" rushed Felinor but paused when Ellyria weakly raised a hand to stem his words.

"Yes, I passed into them and pulled myself from them. It was not ...pleasant," she concluded, turning her head to look out the large opening to the balcony of her room on her right.

"The stories are wrong. It is not peaceful or beautiful. Or at least it was not for me."

"I thought that I had lost you," he whispered.

The tone in his voice made her look back at him.

"Had I been able to think straight in that world, I would have started looking for you after a time. You always come for me," she said, smiling again.

"That is the promise I made when you saved me," replied Felinor, with a nod.

"My saving you once several hundred years ago does not warrant the dozens of times you've saved mine," protested Ellyria.

"Well if you would just stop getting into trouble so much, my life would be that much easier," he quipped.

"I am sorry for inconveniencing you," she smiled and then quickly brought her hand up to stifle a yawn.

"You need to rest," said her captain, rising.

"I have never been this tired before," whispered Ellyria, sagging back against her pillows.

"You have never been this injured before," answered Felinor, pulling the blanket up a little for her.

"Yes, I have. Once," she breathed, meeting his gaze briefly before slipping into the dreaming state of elves.

Felinor watched her for a moment, thinking back to the time she mentioned and then turned to leave.

The following day, Ellyria was able to write to her father and assure him that she was alive and healing. The strain of writing even a short letter necessitated resting again for several hours. Late in the afternoon, Pela had just finished brushing Ellyria's hair when there was a knock on her door.

"Perhaps your captain is here to see you," suggested Pela, rising.

Ellyria nodded and tried to sit up a little straighter, pulling her grey robe closed over her thin blue gown and adjusting the blanket over her lap.

The door to her chamber was hidden behind a rocky outcropping in the room. Ellyria heard Pela answer the door but instead of a greeting, she heard the elf maid draw in her breath sharply and say quietly, "Yes, she is awake."

Ellyria watched the edge of rocky wall expectantly.

Pela rounded the corner, her eyes wide and moved to stand off the to side so that whomever was behind her could enter the room.

"Lord Thranduil, my lady," she announced, dropping into an elegant curtsey.

Ellyria's chest tightened as the Elvenking stepped into the room.

The King was dressed in robes of black with a long, crimson outer coat, embroidered with hundreds of leaves, that trailed behind him as he moved toward her. He wore no crown or diadem though his white hair stayed in place, spilling elegantly over his shoulders. The room suddenly seemed too small to contain his presence.

"Thank you, Pela," managed Ellyria, looking at the king.

The elf maid nodded once and then swept out of the room.

"My lord, forgive me, I…" began Ellyria, bending as much as she dared in deference but Thranduil stopped her.

"Please, be easy," said Thranduil, raising one hand to arrest her movement. "I do not wish to disturb you."

Ellyria nodded and relaxed slightly.

"Thank you for the honor of your visit, my lord," said Ellyria, meeting his ice blue eyes.

"The honor is mine, Lady Ellyria," he replied, coming to stand at her left side near her feet.

"Please," Ellyria gestured to the chair near her bed where Pela had been sitting.

Thranduil glanced at it and then back at her.

"Thank you. I do not intend to stay long. I understand you still need a great deal of rest," deferred the King.

"Yes," she sighed. "It is rapidly becoming tiresome."

Thranduil regarded her for a moment, a small smile tugging at his mouth unsure if she had intended the joke or not.

"I feel I should apologize again for how I spoke to you during the fighting… and for not recognizing who you were," Ellyria tried meeting his eyes again and then let them drop back to her lap. She wished the tightness in her chest would ease.

"There is no need for you to be embarrassed. We have never been formally introduced. I believe the few times I visited Eastwood, you were away," soothed the King.

"Yes, my father berated me afterward each time" she smiled, "I am away from Eastwood a good deal. There are so many cities in Middle Earth; I wish to experience as many as I can before my time here is over."

Thranduil answered her smile with a small one of his own but there was no understanding in his pale blue eyes.

"You must have seen a great many of them yourself," prompted Ellyria, searching his countenance for empathy or interest.

Thranduil looked away from her and stared out her balcony silently.

"Yes, a great many," said the King quietly, more to himself than to her. "Some I will never forget and others… would that I could."

Ellyria frowned as she looked at him. The room seemed to shrink around him as he stood still and straight, his face clouded. She had never heard such despair in an elf before.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trouble you with uneasy thoughts," said Ellyria, watching him.

There was a pause and then Thranduil drew a breath and looked back down at her.

"Not all lands were meant to be visited; take care to stay in the light," warned the survivor of Dagorlad.

Ellyria could only nod, no words would come. There was a haunted look in his eyes that unsettled her.

"Thank you for writing to my father," Ellyria tried again, after a heavy silence.

"He seemed surprised to hear that you had ridden out that morning," King Thranduil replied, raising one dark eyebrow at her.

Ellyria blushed and dropped her eyes to her lap, her fingers twisting themselves in knots.

"I was growing restless and thought a morning patrol would help calm the feeling. I did not anticipate the danger we found," she tried to explain, worried that it sounded like she was whining; making excuses.

"In light of what happened, I cannot censure your actions," said Thranduil, his gaze softening.

Ellyria smiled again, meeting his eyes once more.

"I wish you had not suffered as cruelly as you did," offered the King, sympathy coloring his voice for the first time.

"It was the risk I took when I decided to kick you aside instead of praying the ax would not find its mark," said Ellyria firmly.

Thranduil absently touched his side.

"I am grateful for your bravery and the sizeable bruise it left behind," smiled the King.

Ellyria laughed in relief at the shift in his tone and the sternness of his eyes but it was short lived. Pain stabbed through her and she was forced to catch her breath, hunching over at the sharp reminder of her condition.

"Forgive me. Shall I summon Pela to tend you?" asked Thranduil attentively, moving to the edge of her bed, one hand hesitantly outstretched.

Ellyria swallowed and took a calming breath before opening her eyes.

"No, it will pass," she breathed, leaning back against her pillows, her hand pressed firmly over the bandaged wound.

"What can I do?" he demanded, still watching her intently.

Ellyria paused before speaking. She doubted 'nothing' would be an acceptable answer.

"A glass of water if you would," she suggested, still taking deep breaths.

Thranduil inclined his head, spun on his heel and strode to the table on the far wall that held several goblets and a large carafe of water. His long red coat whispered over the floor as he moved. He returned to her, holding the full goblet out with one hand.

Ellyria accepted it with both of hers, taking care not to touch his bejeweled fingers as she did so. In some cultures, she had learned that such an action caused offense and she was not sure how he would react to such familiarity.

"Thank you," she said quietly, raising it to her lips and taking a few sips.

"I have disturbed you enough for one day, my lady. I will take my leave so that you may rest," said King Thranduil, inclining his snowy head to her.

"Not at all, my lord. It was a welcome distraction," Lady Ellyria assured him, letting the cup come to rest in her lap.

"I will return several days hence when you are stronger," he promised, moving past the end of her bed toward the door.

"I will look forward to it," said Ellyria, inclining her head to him.

When she raised her eyes again, he was gone and Pela had come back into the room.

"Is he returning, my lady?" asked Pela quietly, glancing from her to the door.

"In a few days, Pela. I did not think he would take the time to visit me. He must have many more important matters to attend to," Ellyria trailed off.

"We do not often have guests in Mirkwood, my lady," said Pela, coming to sit with her once more.

Ellyria frowned at Pela and took another drink of water as the pain in her side ebbed.

"Why is that?" she wondered.

Pela shrugged gracefully.

"It may be perhaps that some feel, the woods are not safe to travel through and therefore not worth the risk of visiting," Pela replied, taking Ellyria's empty cup.

"But other elven lords surely have journeyed here?"

"I think Lord Elrond came to stay sometime in the last age. If others have come, it was before my time," answered Pela.

"And the King does not journey to other places?"

Pela smiled a little sadly.

"When the King leaves, it is usually at the head of our army. I have not heard of him traveling merely for the sake of traveling but he may have done, many moons ago."

Ellyria nodded, thinking.

After a moment of silence, she glanced up at Pela.

"I'm sorry. I do not mean to pester you with questions," apologized the curious elf.

"You may ask me anything you like, my lady, though I may not have the answers you seek. Especially if they are about the King. Today was the first time I spoke to him in all my life. I was not prepared for how sharp his eyes are," said Pela quietly.

"Nor was I. I find I can breathe easier now that he is gone," confessed Ellyria, stifling a yawn.

"I will wake you for dinner, my lady," Pela promised, rising.

Ellyria nodded, her eyelids suddenly heavy. Her last thought was of the King and the quiet despair that had crept into his voice when he spoke of the realms ruled by darkness.


	3. Another View

Another View

"Ellyria, what is the matter?" asked Felinor, coming into her chamber and striding to her bedside.

"It is nothing. Merely, I… I am jealous that you can walk. You needn't be so energetic about it," said Ellyria, peevishly.

"It has been less than a week since you awoke, Ellyria. You should be pleased to feel anything at all," remonstrated her friend gently.

Ellyria hung her head.

"I know, Felinor. It is just the stillness; not being able to move from this bed without help that is making me anxious. I do not mean to be poor company," she apologized.

Felinor smiled at her.

"You have a restless spirit. This I have known for many moons."

"A change of scenery would be most welcome," she murmured wistfully, looking out at the balcony.

She looked back at him.

"You've been able to walk around this realm, Felinor; what are your impressions of it?" asked Ellyria curiously sitting up as straight as her wound would allow..

"Given the beauty and warmth of the pathways and arches, it is a shock to remember that we are in a cave. There is as much open space as in Eastwood, though Eastwood is greener. If I had to choose between Eastwood and Mirkwood for purely defensive reasons, it would easily be this realm," recounted Felinor, using his hands as he spoke.

Ellyria caught herself before laughing and instead managed a wide smile.

"Thinking like a true captain."

"You asked for my impressions and I have given them. I am not inclined to romanticism as you are," quipped Felinor, with an answering smile.

"True. Still, I would like to see it for myself. This room is so quiet even though it opens into a balcony; are we up very high?" wondered Ellyria.

"Yes the stairs are quite a climb," said Felinor, rising. "The view must be worth it if this chamber is reserved for guests of the King."

He strode to the opening and pushed back the hanging cloth that served to block the light. Her captain disappeared behind the curtain and out onto the balcony.

"What can you see?" she called.

Felinor came back in before answering her.

"The view is one of the best I've seen in an enclosed realm," replied the elf, walking back over to her.

"Is there a chair or bench out there?" she asked, thinking.

"Yes there are two chairs with comfortable enough looking coverings, why?" asked Felinor, pausing with an eyebrow raised instead of reclaiming his seat.

"I cannot walk out there but if you were to carry me…" Ellyria suggested hopefully.

"Ellyria, I don't want to risk hurting you. That slash is just starting to knit together…." protested her friend futilely.

"I would do it for you," she pleaded.

Felinor laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"When you are well, I would dearly love to see you try to carry me."

"Please Felinor. Just for a moment. I take full responsibility for whatever happens," Ellyria tried again.

Felinor shook his head and pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose.

"If Pela banishes me from your room for this you have no one to blame but yourself," he warned.

Ellyria nodded in agreement excitedly, pushing back her covers and tightening the band at her waist holding her robe together.

"Can you even raise your arm high enough to put it around my neck?" asked Felinor bending down to her

Ellyria dutifully and slowly raised her left arm up until her elbow was in her line of sight.

"Very well."

Felinor slid one arm behind her back and around her waist and the other beneath her bent knees.

"Ready?" he asked, watching her face intently.

She nodded and took a steadying breath.

Very carefully, Felinor lifted her up into his arms.

Ellyria pulled in another quick breath sharply through her nose and closed her eyes at the tugging sensation in her side.

Felinor went still and waited for a sign from her.

Ellyria opened her eyes and nodded, "please."

Treading more lightly than he ever had in his life, Felinor moved to the balcony.

Ellyria blinked against the brighter light as they stepped outside.

When she could focus, her grip around his neck tightened as she took in the dizzying height.

Felinor lowered her onto the cushions covering a white stone chair off to the left side of the balcony. The same tugging sensation caused her to catch her breath again but there was no great wave of pain as she had feared. She reached out and rested her hand on the smooth stone of the half wall that enclosed the opening, looking cautiously over the side.

Very far below her, were many winding pathways leading off in all directions. The distant sound of rushing water finally reached her elven ears as she watched the water of a faraway falls crash down the side of the cave. The natural light that filled the vast realm surprised her since she could not readily see any openings for the light to enter.

"It is as you said, Felinor. What is that over there," she asked, pointing to a convergence of pathways that led to a raised dais with what looked like huge elk antlers at the far end.

"That is the King's throne and beyond that are his dungeons," said Felinor quietly.

Ellyria glanced up at him with a frown.

"Dungeons? Is there anyone in the cells?" she asked in concern.

"I cannot say. I noticed them when I first entered this realm; I have not ventured that way again," replied Felinor.

Ellyria was silent; she had never heard of an elven realm that had dungeons. It seemed uncivilized. Her thoughts strayed back to the King and the haunted look she had seen in his clear blue eyes.

"Lady Ellyria!"

Pela's frightened voice caused both her and Felinor to jump.

"I'm here, Pela. Do not be alarmed," called Ellyria, looking apologetically up at Felinor.

Pela rushed out onto the balcony, her deep purple gown swirling about her legs as she came to a halt before the other two elves whose heads were bowed sheepishly.

"Did you carry her out here?" demanded the worried healer, looking pointedly at Felinor.

Even though she was several hands shorter than him, Felinor shrank slightly under her gaze.

"I did. I was careful…" he tried to protest but she held up her hand to stop him.

"You will take her back inside," ordered Pela, lowering her voice.

Ellyria raised her arm and Felinor bent to lift her up again.

When she was settled, Pela turned to Felinor.

"I must ask you not to do that again. If something happens to Lady Ellyria, I will have to answer to Master Viridian and he in turn to the King," chastised Pela.

"Please, Pela. It was my fault; I am anxious to be able to move again on my own," explained Lady Ellyria.

"You have my sympathy. As a compromise, we can try standing tomorrow and I will not assist you," offered Pela, her violet eyes still dark with concern.

Ellyria nodded.

"She should rest now, Captain," urged Pela, ushering him to the door.

Ellyria caught the discreet wink he tossed over his shoulder at her before he left.

"Are you in any pain?" asked Pela, coming back to her beside.

"Not at all," lied Lady Ellyria.

"Good. Please don't take a risk like that again. I can see that you are not the sort to be content with motionlessness. I promise you will be up about soon," soothed the healer, pressing Ellyria's hand.

"Thank you for understanding, Pela," Ellyria said, pressing the elf's hand in turn.

They enjoyed a convivial dinner together and Ellyria sank easily into sleep that night.

The following day, true to her word, Pela helped Ellyria stand by the side of her bed and then let go of her.

Ellyria sighed in relief at being able to stand on her own. She managed to stay upright for a moment before a buzzing sound crept into her ears and she was obliged to sit down on the bed.

"Do you feel dizzy?" asked Pela, sitting down beside her.

"A little. I think it will pass as long as I do not stand again soon," decided Ellyria, not wanting to lie back down again so soon after this victory.

She convinced Pela to let her stand several more times that day and brushed out her own hair after a welcome bath.

Felinor visited after dinner and insisted Pela stay in the room.

"If for no other reason than to prove I can behave," he said, with a grin as he motioned for Pela to take the chair near Ellyria's bed and brought another from the other side of the room.

They passed an easy hour together before Ellyria could no longer stifle a yawn.

Felinor took that as his cue to leave but promised to return tomorrow morning.

"Better?" asked Pela, before leaving her that night.

"Better," agreed Ellyria with a determined smile.

The next morning, Ellyria was nearly able to change into a new sleeping gown on her own. She was still not yet able to raise both arms over her head. When she was dressed and sitting comfortably, Pela stepped out to refill some of the pain potion vials Ellyria had been taking.

Ellyria turned and looked over at the balcony, remembering the view from two days ago.

And waited.

Finally, there was a knock on the door.

"Come," called Ellyria, trying not to sound as relieved as she felt.

"I was afraid you weren't coming today," she commented, looking down at her lap to straighten the coverlet.

When there was no reply, she glanced up to see Lord Thranduil pausing in the entrance, surprise pulling his dark eyebrows up higher than usual.

"Oh my lord," breathed Ellyria, flushing in embarrassment and dropping her eyes. "I didn't mean…" Ellyria stopped again.

"I can see you were expecting someone else," said the King, deciding to end her confusion.

"I am happy to see anyone, my lord. Please, come in," offered Ellyria gesturing to the room.

Thranduil inclined his head to her and took up the seat near her bed. The large robe of grey, black and white contrasted well with his white hair which remained unadorned. Even sitting, Ellyria felt that the room had shrunk somehow and the tightness in her chest she had experienced at their last meeting returned.

"How have you been?" asked Ellyria, hoping this conversation would go better than their last.

The King smiled curiously at her.

"You are the injured one and you inquire after my health?"

"You seemed...worried the last time we spoke. Have more orcs been sighted within the forest?" asked Ellyria gently.

"No, it is quiet again," replied the King.

"I had thought them gone completely. I have not seen one for many years," said Ellyria.

"Evil is never gone, my lady. It waits. Perhaps it is done waiting," murmured the King darkly, looking past her, his sharp eyes unfocusing.

After a moment of silence, Thranduil looked at her.

"Forgive me, I do not mean to frighten you. You are quite safe here. It is likely nothing," continued Lord Thranduil, seeing the worry in her face.

Ellyria nodded and tried to smile.

"Your health seems improved since last I was here," observed Thranduil.

She met his eyes again and found her smile.

"Yes, I was able to stand on my own several times yesterday. It was a great relief to not be sitting or lying down," replied Ellyria. "Within a day or two, I hope to be walking. At least as far as the balcony."

Ellyria glanced over at it as she spoke.

"It is strange now to think that even though we are neighbors, I have never visited your kingdom. I was always keen to be far away. I am not sure why," said Ellyria, frowning into her lap.

"Perhaps it does not feel like traveling if you are only on horseback for an hour," supplied the King, watching her.

She looked up, pleased that he seemed to understand her.

The King turned grave again.

"There is something I wish to ask you but we need not speak of it now if it is too painful," he said gently.

Ellyria looked toward the foot of her bed though she did not see it.

"The Veiled Lands," she said quietly.

"Viridian has told me a little of what you said to him when you returned to this world. Your description does not match any that I have heard of," questioned Thranduil.

"Nor I but that is what I saw. It was no daydream rather a nightmare I could not wake from. I do not know why it was like that for me," Ellyria said unhappily.

"The few writings we have of it from those who have gone and returned are vague on detail if I remember correctly. Though the general sense was one of pleasant, non threatening surroundings," recounted the older elf.

Ellyria shook her head sadly.

"It was not pleasant. Perhaps it was not the Veiled Lands but somewhere else. Somewhere… less divine," she muttered, her eyes unfocusing again.

"Wherever it was, my lady, what matters is that you returned. Through no help of my healers, I understand," continued Thranduil.

Viridian told you how I escaped?" asked Ellyria, looking over at the King with trepidation.

He nodded saying nothing.

She winced and looked at her hands.

"I would not have you think me a coward but I could not bear it there any longer," her voice trailed off as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

"I have seen you fight, my lady. I would hesitate to call you such," he reminded her, trying to draw her thoughts away from the darkness he had conjured.

Ellyria smiled at the compliment and then frowned as a thought struck her.

"Why did you stay?"

The King frowned in kind.

"Where?"

"During the fighting when we arrived. You were in danger and had no armor. Why did you not return to your halls?" asked Ellyria, looking at him.

"That is cowardice. How can I lead if I will not face what I ask my people to face," explained the King.

"But do you not also have a duty to preserve your own life for the sake of your people?" pressed Ellyria, trying to understand him.

"My line is secure in my son. And I think you underestimate my abilities," cautioned King Thranduil, his tone cooling.

Ellyria swallowed and suddenly realized she was speaking to an elf who had lived through wars more horrible than she could imagine and had carried those memories for far longer than she had been alive.

"My Lord Thranduil, forgive me. One day, I will listen to my father when he tells me I am too direct in my speech. I did not mean to cause offense."

The young elf hoped that her hasty apology was enough to placate the King.

Thranduil regarded her for a moment before speaking.

"I was told something of your character by your captain. Felinor, was it?" asked the King.

Ellyria smiled.

"He told you I was stubborn?" she theorized, watching the King's face.

"Strong willed was the phrase he used," corrected Thranduil, some warmth coming back into his stern countenance.

"Stubborn as a dwarf is how my father usually describes me though I am pleased he never said as much at least to you," said Ellyria, relaxing slightly.

The King smiled.

"The few times he has mentioned you to me, he always sounded proud."

"Did you…" Ellyria stopped, unsure if she should ask the question.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Did you know my mother?"

Whatever he had been anticipating, it was not that.

"I met Lady Meryn only once. She was carrying you at the time. She was extremely kind," related Thranduil.

Ellyria smiled and looked down at her hands.

"I envy you. I can recall her voice but that is all."

Ellyria was mortified at the start of tears in the corners of her eyes again.

"Wine?" asked the King, rising to give her a moment to collect herself.

"No, I am not allowed to have any yet. Water would be welcome," replied Ellyria, waiting to wipe her eyes until after the King had turned his back to her.

He returned in a moment with a goblet of water for her and wine for himself.

Ellyria cleared her throat.

"Felinor tells me this room is up rather high. While in a few days I hope to be able to appreciate the view from the balcony. In a week or so when I can walk a little more, might I move to a chamber a little nearer the ground?" asked Lady Ellyria, taking a small sip of water.

Thranduil lowered his glass.

"Of course. You will not be able to climb all the stairs," he said more to himself than to her.

"Yes, I will see to it that you are moved when you are well enough to walk on your own," agreed the King, meeting her gaze again.

"Thank you. Though this room is very peaceful," complimented Ellyria.

"I am glad you are comfortable here," said the King dutifully.

There was a knock on her door.

The King and Ellyria both glanced over at it.

"Perhaps that is who you were expecting," Thranduil said standing up and placing his goblet on her bedside table. "Come," he called, before she could speak.

A brown haired elf came into the room with his head slightly inclined. He bowed to the King when he saw him.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord but the wine merchants from Laketown have arrived," announced the elf, nodding to Lady Ellyria as well.

"I will be there shortly," replied the King, dismissing him.

The elf bowed again and stepped out of the room.

"Good day, Lady Ellyria. I pray your recovery progresses as quickly as you wish," offered King Thranduil, inclining his head to her.

"Thank you my lord," she answered, bowing her head to him.

And with a soft whisper of his robes, he was gone.

The room seemed bigger again and the tightness in her chest dissipated.

Lady Ellyria finished the water in her cup and looked longingly at the wine leftover in the King's.

She had little time to consider the temptation before Pela entered. The rest of her day was taken up with standing and sitting, visiting for a while with Felinor who was surprised to hear that the King had visited her again.

She retired early that night, worn out with the interactions of the day.

The next day, Pela stayed at her side while she tried her first few steps. After two, the pain in her side flared and Pela had to help Ellyria back to the bed.

"The next day it will be four steps," promised the healer, seeing the disappointment in Ellyria's face.

"In three days, I would like to be sitting on the balcony," said Lady Ellyria with quiet determination.

"I am confident you will make it though Captain Felinor may need to carry you back," cautioned Pela, with a light laugh.

Ellyria laughed as well but the twinge from her side did not take her breath as it had done before.

"Could I not try to heal myself again?" asked Ellyria, taking a long drink of water.

"No my lady. You should not attempt that. Viridian has said that the poison is still inside you and perhaps the wound itself. He does not know what would happen if you tried. I asked him yesterday if I might try it, if only to heal the cut in your side but he forbade me as well," explained Pela, sitting down next to her.

"I would not want you to hurt yourself trying to heal me. If there is even the smallest risk that I might be transported back to the Veiled Lands or wherever I was, I will not take it. I am not strong enough to go through that again," said Ellyria quietly.

"You will not have to," Pela assured her.

Ellyria met the elf's pretty violet eyes and hoped that she was right.


	4. Pathways

Pathways

"It has been many years since I have known such complete happiness," said Ellyria contentedly, sipping a small goblet of wine and looking down on the elegant sprawl of the Elvenking's halls before her.

"And all it took was fifteen steps to a balcony and a cup of wine," said Felinor next to her, eating a piece of cheese from the plate between them.

"And sitting up in a chair rather than a bed, don't forget," added Ellyria setting the goblet down.

"How could I?" retorted Felinor in feigned weariness.

Ellyria tossed him a look and Felinor grinned back.

"Tell me, oh elf who can walk wherever he pleases, have you seen any pools or slow rivers that might be fit for swimming in?" Ellyria asked, choosing two raspberries.

Felinor thought for a moment.

"There might be one although I do not know if you can swim in it. A few elves walked past it while I was looking around but they seemed to ignore it. Pela might know about it," suggested Felinor.

"If I cannot walk far, perhaps I could swim," said Ellyria.

"I think that might be even more dangerous than walking," argued Felinor.

"After two weeks of eating and sleeping in this room, I would welcome any danger," muttered Ellyria, going back for more raspberries.

"Not if it made you bedridden again," Felinor cautioned her.

Ellyria sighed.

Some movement below caught her eye and she leaned over the stone railing for a better look.

Even at such a height, the white hair and straight posture of the King proclaimed it to be he in long robes of shimmering green and a crown of branches, walking along a path that led to his throne. Thranduil ascended the winding stairs to the throne and once seated, he leaned back into an arrogant slouch.

Odd, thought Lady Ellyria. He had sat perfectly straight and still the last time he had visited her chamber several days ago.

Ellyria focused on him and cocked her head to the side, thinking.

"He interests you, doesn't he?" asked Felinor curiously.

Ellyria glanced at him and then took great care in choosing a cube of cheese.

"Yes, he does. I have never met an elf with such…" Ellyria paused, searching for the right word.

"White hair?" suggested Felinor, half seriously.

"Do not mock me, Felinor. I can still beat you in a fight," Ellyria said.

"You don't fight fair and I am certain I could beat you now," observed Felinor finishing his wine.

"When I am fully healed we will test that theory," she threatened.

"With wooden swords I presume or you will end up bedridden again," taunted her friend playfully.

She smiled at him and shook her head.

Below, elves came and went before the King. They were too far away to hear anything that was said.

"I think 'presence' is the word you were looking for earlier to describe him," said Felinor quietly, looking down at the royal elf.

"You've noticed it too?" asked Ellyria, still watching what went on below them.

"He is the sort of elf that I would follow, wherever he chose to lead," admitted Felinor.

"It is good that he is a King then," Ellyria noted.

They both watched the scene below in silence for a time before Ellyria began to grow weary.

"I think it may be time to go in and rest," Felinor said, rising and holding out his hand for hers.

"I want to see if I can make it back on my own today," deferred Ellyria, slowly standing up.

Felinor dropped his hand and took a step back so she could pass him. With only a few uncertain steps, she was able to make it back without his assistance though she sank abruptly onto the bed upon reaching it.

"I may sleep until dinner," she murmured with her eyes closed.

"Then I will leave you in peace," said Felinor, heading for the door.

"Thank you," whispered Ellyria, already slipping into the dreaming state.

"Welcome to your new room, my lady," said Pela, helping her across the threshold.

Ellyria paused just inside the doorway to take in her new surroundings.

The chamber was just as spacious as her first room though there were more golden lanterns for light rather than the natural lighting that belonged to the rooms in the higher reaches of the cave. The stone seemed smoother and paler with many intricate carvings near the doorway and the large opening on the far wall that was more a window than a balcony. To Ellyria's delight, there was a narrow trench in the floor near the wall off to her left with clear flowing water running through it . It disappeared under a large stone that held a wooden wardrobe and then continued out through a small opening in the corner of the room.

"Do you like it?" asked Pela, when she did not speak.

"Even more than the first. My chamber in Eastwood is near a small waterfall so I am glad to hear water noises again," replied Ellyria happily.

"They are very soothing sounds. Many of the larger rooms we use for sick or wounded elves have water flowing nearby," explained Pela, helping Ellyria to the bed.

Two other elves brought in her armor, swords and a small trunk that her father had sent last week filled with clothes and items from her home. She felt more herself wearing her own dresses again rather than a simple sleeping gown and robe.

The male elves nodded politely to her as they left.

"Now that you are right next to a path and can walk about more freely, I would still ask that either I or Captain Felinor accompanies you. You still tire suddenly," requested Pela, moving the pillows on the bed so Ellyria could lean back against them.

"I promise not to go exploring without one of you with me," Ellyria assured her, looking out at the window. There was a large tree growing just outside the opening and beyond were several elevated stone paths leading off into the distance.

"Charming," she heard Felinor say behind her as he stepped into the room also.

"The carvings are very beautiful," Ellyria observed, looking at the elven etchings scored deep into the stone face.

"Shall I leave you to get settled?" asked Felinor. "After carrying you down all those stairs, I may need to rest."

Ellyria smiled at him and bid him good day, shaking her head at his retreating form.

"Pela, can we walk out for a while?" asked Ellyria anxiously, looking out the window.

"Only for a short distance," cautioned the healer but she gave the wounded elf her arm with a smile.

Together they walked out onto the stone pathway leading down towards the King's throne. There were more trees and bushes growing up around the pathways than Ellyria had at first realized. Between the foliage on the ground and the strong natural light near the ceiling, it was easy to forget that they were in a cave.

"Have you always lived here Pela?" asked Ellyria as they walked.

"Yes all my life. I am of the Teleri tribe and we center all our lives around our home land," explained Pela, nodding to a passing group of elves.

"Have you never been outside of these forests then?" Ellyria said, trying not to sound to incredulous.

"No my lady, my place is here. I would have it no other way."

Ellyria wondered, not for the first time, if there was something wrong with her; something that drove her to seek out new lands and chafe at the very idea of living out all her days in the same realm.

They paused on a path with a clear view of the King's throne. The large elk antlers seemed to loom over the space between the six stone pillars that stretched skyward. Six guards in dark metal armor stood motionless on the raised dais before the throne even though the King was nowhere to be seen. It was an imposing sight well suited to the elf who sat the throne.

Ellyria looked off to her left, wanting to keep going but the heaviness in her limbs was getting the better of her.

"I think we had better turn back, my lady. Perhaps we can walk farther tomorrow," suggested Pela, steering her around to walk back the way they had come.

Ellyria looked behind her one time at the throne and then focused on her steps back to her new chamber.

"Tell me, Pela, are there any pools in the king's halls that are large enough to swim in?" asked Ellyria as they were walking the next day.

Pela thought for a moment.

"There is only one that would be safe to swim in and it belongs to the King. There are plenty of heated baths but they are more for sitting rather than swimming," recounted Pela, bending low to avoid a branch that stretched out across their path.

"Does the King like to swim?" asked Pela, as they walked into a wide open space, a hidden glade of flowers and trees.

"I have never heard of him doing so but he has been our King far longer than I have been alive," Pela admitted. "There is a bench here. Shall we stop?"

Ellyria nodded gratefully and the two women sat on a white stone bench near a babbling brook.

They had not been sitting more than a few minutes when suddenly Pela rose to her feet and bowed. Ellyria glanced at her and then off to their left.

"Good morning," said Lord Thranduil as Lady Ellyria rose hastily to greet him. She was relieved to find she could bow as well without pain.

"Good morning, my lord," she replied, her eyes on the ground until she straightened.

His blue eyes seemed to go right through as her chest tightened familiarly. The King's silver robes flashed brilliantly in the light reflecting off the water in the stream.

"You have your wish I see," the King remarked, coming to a halt before her.

"Yes, I can go a little farther every day. Your realm is beautiful, my lord. I am impatient to see more of it," Lady Ellyria said, looking out over the enclosed glade and then back to him.

Thranduil merely inclined his head at the compliment.

"Now that you are able to walk on your own, would you have dinner with me tonight?" asked the Elvenking, studying her face.

Ellyria did not speak at first, too surprised by his request.

"I would be honored, my lord. Thank you," she managed, hoping her voice did not sound as strange to him as it did to her.

"I will send for you at dusk."

She inclined her head to him again in acceptance and he continued on past her, his back ramrod straight as walked.

Ellyria drew in a breath and sat back on the bench.

"Are you unwell, Ellyria?" asked Pela, sitting down next to her.

"No, I'm well. I should like to return to my room and rest if I am to dine with the King tonight," decided Ellyria.

Pela helped her stand and walked arm in arm with her back to her room.

But lying on the bed was not enough to coax her into a dreaming state of rest. She lay awake, studying the fracture patterns in the stone ceiling and then the carvings by her window though Pela had drawn the curtain across half of them. Ellyria listened to the gentle murmurings of the tiny stream in her room, and watched the light patterns dance on the wall and ceiling.

She was troubled by something she could not put her finger on. Ellyria could not remember a time when she had felt this ill at ease at the prospect of a good dinner. She took as large of a breath as she dared and waiting for Pela to return to help her dress and braid her hair.

"How many spiders is a 'herd,' Feren?" asked the King, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"At least ten, my lord. We were able to hunt down six of them. Where the others went, I know not. We will search them out and destroy them," promised the captain, standing at attention.

"From whence did these creatures come?" demanded Thranduil, turning to face his captain with a frown.

"They were coming up from the south, near the ruins of Dol Guldur, my lord."

"And what of the southern guards? Did they see nothing?"

Feren lowered his eyes at the King's tone.

"They stopped a fair number of them, my lord. The ten that were reported is what overran the guards," explained Feren, still not meeting the King's gaze.

"Several weeks of peace and then this. We cannot have our borders crossed with impunity especially by such foul creatures. Double the guard again and see to it that the remaining spiders are destroyed. I do not want them spawning in my woods, Feren," commanded Lord Thranduil, the edge in his voice cutting against the other elf's pride.

"It will be done, my lord. I will bring word when it is finished," bowed the captain.

Thranduil nodded, dismissing him.

Captain Feren hurried from the King's presence and nearly ran into Felinor coming around the corner. The two elves paused gracefully to avoid a collision.

"Captain," acknowledged Felinor, inclining his head to him respectfully. "Is something wrong that you are hurrying so?"

"Spiders have crossed into our lands. The King has tasked me with hunting them down," said Feren, bowing in turn to the other elf.

"I would be glad to help," offered Felinor. "I have felt useless these last few days and would be glad of a fight."

Feren smiled in approval.

"Get into your armor and meet me at the south entrance," said Feren nodding to him and then stepping around him.

Felinor watched the other elf leave and then moved swiftly to his own chamber for armor and weapons.

Pela finished tying the second golden braid in Ellyria's brown hair and stood back to look at her.

"Your hair is certainly unique, my lady. I have never seen anyone with coloring such as yours.

Ellyria smiled sadly.

"I was not born with it. It appeared after an illness… I would rather not speak of it," requested Ellyria quietly, standing up and smoothing out her gown of deep violet.

Pela nodded and did not press her.

A knock on the door scattered Ellyria's thoughts.

Pela answered the door and ushered in a diminutive male elf with kind brown eyes and matching hair.

"Good evening, Lady Ellyria. My name is Melia. I am here to escort you to dinner if you are ready," he said gently.

"Yes," replied Ellyria. "Thank you, Pela. I will see you tomorrow."

She pressed the healer's gentle hands and then bid Melia to lead on.

"It is not far I hope?" asked Ellyria, falling into step beside Melia.

"No, it is only a few moments from here. The King requested a chamber without stairs," explained Melia, as they wound their way away from her chamber.

They turned down a path that led them into a golden lit tunnel. On the other side was an open space filled with the reds and yellow of the fading sun streaking in from a wide opening in the rock off to her left. There were several trellises covered in vibrant green ivy ranged around a rectangular table set for two at the center of the room. A few elves were busy arranging food at another table off to her right and several more were playing music softly in the corner of the room.

"Lady Ellyria, my lord," announced Melia, bowing to the King who stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking out into the evening.

He turned when the elf spoke and Ellyria bowed to him as well.

Melia silently disappeared as the King strode over to her, his midnight blue robe flecked with tiny gems reminded her of the night sky. Again he wore no crown.

"My lady. I trust the walk was not too far for you?" asked Thranduil.

"No, it wasn't. Every day, I feel more myself," she assured him.

"Good."

Thranduil extended a hand toward the table and Ellyria moved with him to be seated. To her surprise, he pulled out her chair himself. When they were both seated, a few elves served them and poured their wine.

Fresh vegetables, cheeses Ellyria had never seen before, roasted meat and warm breads spread in platters across the table. All at once, Ellyria felt as if she had not eaten for several days - even though she had - and filled her plate.

"I must thank you for your hospitality, my lord. I have enjoyed my time here, despite being injured," said Lady Ellyria when the King did not speak again.

"Think nothing of it. I pleased you recovery is has not been too troublesome. I imagine you wish to return home within the next few weeks provided riding on horseback does not cause you pain," Thranduil replied, taking a long drink of wine.

"I think I should be able to manage in a week or so, yes, though I confess, I am in no hurry to leave. There is a sense of safety here that I do not feel in Eastwood, nor in any of the places I've visited," Ellyria explained, taking a small bite of cheese and bread.

"You do not feel safe in Eastwood? Why?" questioned the King, frowning at her.

Ellyria shrugged her shoulders as she tried to voice the nagging feeling she had always had about her home.

"It is elevated and surrounded by a wall which should be enough but the _openness_ of it has always worried me. Many years ago, I remember the orc raids that used to happen and while we were able to drive them off, I did not like the feeling of isolation," said Ellyria pensively.

She smiled and shook her head, meeting his curious gaze.

"It must sound strange to you that an elf worries over open spaces."

"I am more pleased to hear that you do not have that anxiety here," replied the King tactfully, pulling several pieces of meat off the bone before him. "Above all else, I wish my people to feel safe."

"How could they not in such a place as this?" asked Ellyria, gesturing to the solid walls around them.

"Whatever it takes to help them forget that they live right next to lands that are unsafe," replied Thranduil, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

Ellyria smiled at him and took a drink of wine.

"For tonight, let us not speak of dark things," she suggested, searching his face for approval. "There is much beauty and light in the world."

Something akin to sadness flitted across the old King's face but it was gone as soon as she noticed it. He lifted his glass to her.

"Very well. If you could live anywhere in Middle Earth, where would you choose?" asked the King.

"I do not know that I would be content with only one place forever. I would stay in Minas Tirith for the light, the Shire for the cheese and perhaps Lothlorien for the wine," chose Ellyria, thinking aloud. "And here for the water noises."

"The water?" asked Thranduil, with a curious smile.

"Yes, I would have the sounds of water about me always."

"I asked Pela earlier if there was a pool or slow river within your halls that was fit for swimming but she was not able to name one. Do you know of any?" queried Ellyria, taking a bite of warm bread.

"Yes there is one. You may tell Pela that she can escort you to the Serene Pool when you are strong enough to swim. If walking a distance still poses a challenge, swimming is not something you should engage in, my lady," cautioned Thranduil.

"Thank you. It will be some days yet I think," replied Ellyria.

Ellyria carried on making polite conversation with the King, who was an engaged and careful listener, but she wondered if it mattered to him. Her comfort and recovery appeared to be a priority to him but she could not tell if he had any interest in her beyond the fact that she was his guest and had also saved his life. She watched his face as he spoke and his hands as they held a knife or a cup and realized she wanted to know more of him but did not feel she had a right to ask anything that might spark a real conversation.

Ellyria ate the last candied almond on her plate and then leaned back in her chair with a partially stifled sigh.

"Enough?" asked Thranduil with an amused smile.

Ellyria nodded. "Everything was wonderful, thank you."

"There is something I would like to show you before you retire for the night," said the King, rising.

Ellyria levered herself out of her chair and walked with the King to the wide opening in the cave. The moon had risen over the land and far below them, Ellyria could make out the trees of Mirkwood and the fast running river that curved protectively around the Elvenking's realm. Thousands of stars twinkled down at them from the dark sky.

"Over there," indicated Lord Thranduil, gesturing off to her left.

Ellyria moved forward and leaned out to see what he was referring to. Off to her left, the forest ended and a wide plain stretched out like wrinkled fabric on the ground. Beyond the plain was a wide raised hill the top of which glowed with light.

"Eastwood," said Ellyria quietly, smiling fondly at her home.

"Do you miss it?" asked Thranduil at her side.

Ellyria did not hesitate.

"I have been away from home for far longer than this many a time. It is the place I always return to when I weary of travel. I know it and my father will always be there so I am not as anxious to return as perhaps I should be," said Ellyria, still gazing out at the hilltop.

She did not turn around in time to see the look of pain flash into Thranduil's blue eyes before he bowed his head. A part of him wanted to warn her not to rely on her father's place in her life with such certainty but he bit the words back. He did not intend to burden her with his pain.

"You are welcome here as long as you wish," the King heard himself say instead, raising his gaze to look at her again.

Ellyria turned to smile at him though her shoulders slumped with tiredness.

"I should return to my room," decided Ellyria, inclining her head once again to the King.

"Let me walk you back," suggested Thranduil, moving with her as she turned to leave.

"Oh I remember the way," replied Ellyria.

"I will be more at ease if I see you there myself. You did have two cups of Dorwinian wine," stated Thranduil, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Ellyria's eyes widened in surprise and then she raised her right hand, pressing her fingertips together.

"That explains this curious feeling in my fingers," she observed.

"I should have warned you. Come."

It was not an order but he did not say it a way that she felt able to refuse, nor did she wish to.

She placed her hand gently atop his and walked from the room with him.

He did not speak during the short walk back and so Ellyria focused on the warmth of his hand beneath hers. At her door, he lowered her hand and bid her good evening.

"It was my pleasure," she assured him, inclining her head.

"Will you dine with me again in a few days?"

"Certainly, if you wish it, my lord," answered Ellyria.

"I do. You are better company than my Council and the emissaries of Gondor."

Ellyria nodded and smiled wondering, why he did not mention his son among those he intended to break bread with over the next few days but remained silent.

"Rest well, Lady Ellyria," wished the King.

"And you, Lord Thranduil," responded Ellyria more warmly than she intended.

But the King swept away from her without another word or look. Ellyria went inside and shut her door. She managed to change into a sleeping gown and collapsed gratefully onto her bed. She watched the dancing light patterns on her ceiling as she drifted into sleep.

Another day passed and Ellyria walked with Pela farther than she yet had in the last month.

"I will not be able to be with you tomorrow until later in the day, my lady. Perhaps your Captain could walk out with you?" suggested Pela that evening.

"He has been out hunting spiders the last I heard and thoroughly enjoying himself. I will spend the morning resting. You need not worry about me," Ellyria assured her.

But the next morning, Ellyria woke early and dressed before remembering Pela was not coming.

"I will not go far," she promised herself and slipped out the door. She took a few winding paths she had not walked down previously and suddenly came to a set of stone stairs that led into a room she not seen before. Using the wall to brace herself, she carefully walked down the stairs. *The stone pillars before her were carven all way to their bases and beyond them was a small circular pool of clear water. She stepped into the room to admire it then paused when she saw a table off to her right with an untidy pile of letters and scrolls. An elegant looking staff leaning up against an ornate chair back further confirmed her fear that she was somewhere she was not supposed to be. Ellyria turned to go and came face to face with Lord Thranduil, who looked more surprised to see her than anything else.

Ellyria tried to stifle a gasp of surprise and quickly bowed before the King.

"My lord, forgive me. I did not mean to disturb you." said the startled elf not meeting his eyes.

"You are alone this morning?" was his only response.

"Yes, I left without Pela. I can go," offered Ellyria, taking a step back towards the stairs.

"Would you prefer to rest for a moment first?" asked Thranduil moving to intercept her.

Ellyria looked back at him hesitantly.

"You are not interrupting. Please," coaxed the King, gesturing to a chair opposite the ornate one at the table.

"Thank you," Ellyria murmured, and dutifully sat down in the proffered chair.

Thranduil moved to pour her a goblet of wine and one for himself.

"Are these letters?" asked Ellyria, accepting the cup he offered her.

"Treaties, contracts, records of sale; items that require my attention and are the least likely to hold it," answered Thranduil ruefully, taking up the seat opposite her.

The tightness in her chest lessened slightly when she saw him lean back and relax; the first time he had done so in her company.

"I do not envy you those responsibilities," she said with a smile.

He seemed about to reply to her and then paused, glancing at the opening to the room. The King rose and set down his cup. She opened her mouth to speak and leaned forward in her chair as if to rise as well but he motioned for her to stay.

"It is one of my captains with a report," he said to her and moved to stand in the center of the room facing the entrance.

"Come Tauriel," commanded the King, his back and shoulders straightening as he summoned her.

Captain Tauriel swept down the stairs and inclined her head to the King and Lady Ellyria.

"What news have you of the northern border?" asked Thranduil, clasping his hands in front of him.

"More spiders have been sighted, my lord. We are hunting them down as quickly as we can. We have not been able to discover where they are spawning," said the red haired elf, pacing a little before the King. Her anxious movement only emphasized the King's stillness.

"That is your task, Tauriel. To destroy them or drive them off," Lord Thranduil's voice was hard.

"And what if we manage to drive them off? Will they not spread to other lands?" asked Tauriel, still pacing.

"Other lands are not my concern," said the King of Mirkwood.

His words stopped the pacing elf in her tracks and caused Ellyria to rise from her chair behind him, her face a question.

Tauriel bowed and turned on her heel to go, glancing at Lady Ellyria before gliding up the stairs and out of sight.

Thranduil watched her go and then turned to find Lady Ellyria on her feet.

"Not your concern?" asked Ellyria her voice filled with quiet urgency.

Before the King could speak, she went on.

"If Eastwood were threatened and we reached out to you for help, would you answer?" asked Ellyria, searching Thranduil's frowning countenance.

The silent pause that followed was longer than it should have been.

Suddenly, a stabbing pain, such that she had not felt in many days, drove the breath from her lungs and she sank back onto the chair, hunching over and pressing her hand to her side.

Thranduil was by her side in an instant.

"You are walking too far too quickly, my lady," she heard him say above her.

"It will pass," whispered Ellyria, keeping her eyes closed.

"Pela," said the King abruptly, "see Lady Ellyria back to her room."

Ellyria looked up to see the healer hurrying toward her, looking very contrite.

"Yes, my lord," replied Pela, coming to Ellyria's side. "Forgive me."

Ellyria opened her eyes and sat up, taking in a careful breath.

Pela and Thranduil were both extending a hand to her to help her rise.

She took Pela's hand and took hold of her dress with the other and stood.

Ellyria glanced at the King. He lowered his hand back to his side and studied her face intently, trying to read her.

"Forgive me for intruding upon you, my lord. It will not happen again."

She bowed as well as she could and then walked away from him, Pela holding her hand and wrapping the other around Ellyria's back for support.

Lord Thranduil watched the two women leave, his brow furled in thought.

"Ellyria, you promised not to leave without me or Felinor," chided Pela, gently.

"I know; I'm sorry. I was restless and I did not go far. I will speak with Viridian if he reprimands you for it. You have been nothing if not patient and kind," said Ellyria, her voice dull.

Pela noticed it and looked at her but did not press her.

Once back in her room, Pela helped her to bed.

"The pain is passing. I will rest until dinner, Pela. Thank you," said the confused elf, lying back on her bed.

Pela nodded but before she could leave, Ellyria stopped her.

"Will you forgive me?" asked the transgressor.

Pela smile and nodded, before leaving Ellyria to her troubled thoughts.


	5. What Lies Beneath

What Lies Beneath

"How many spiders did you kill?" asked Ellyria incredulously.

She and Felinor were sitting in her room by the window.

"Seven. It would have been nine but Feren stole a few from me," replied Felinor, rising and adjusting the sword at his side.

"Are there so many?" observed Ellyria uneasily.

"We are close to finding where they spawn. I am sure of it," proclaimed the warrior elf.

"I am glad you are helping them. They have done so much for us," said Ellyria, looking out the window.

"Are you sure you're well, Ellyria?" asked Felinor for the second time that day.

"Yes," she assured him with a smile.

"Go hunt spiders. Be careful," she called to his retreating form as he started for the door.

"Always."

Ellyria smiled and shook her head, picking up a warm cup of tea and bringing it to her lips to cool it.

Truthfully, she was not well. Her body continued to heal itself but she grew more and more troubled and confused when she tried to understand how the King could have spoken as he did to Captain Tauriel.

How could no other realm matter to him? How could he think isolation was the answer to the question of keeping his people safe?

There was a knock at her door, interrupting her unpleasant thoughts.

"Come," she called, setting down her tea and turning in her chair to face the door.

Pela entered, her earthy brown dress well suited to her fair complexion and striking eyes.

"I thought you might like to see where we heal the wounded. The falls and streams in the area are some of our best," suggested Pela, coming over to her.

"Certainly. A walk is what I need," said Ellyria rising.

Pela led her down several pathways and through the open glade Ellyria liked.

"Can I ask you something Pela? You don't have to answer if you do not wish to. I will not repeat what you say," asked Ellyria in a quiet voice.

"Of course you may."

Ellyria paused, wondering if she really wanted the answer to her question or not.

"What do you think of the King?" asked Lady Ellyria, after making sure they were alone on the path.

"My lady?" asked Pela hesitantly, glancing over at her.

"Do you think he is a good King?" Ellyria tried again.

"Oh. Yes I do. My parents and grandparents say he is our greatest King," replied Pela confidently.

"And why do you think that, if you don't mind my asking?" pressed Ellyria.

"Well, there are 12 tribes within the Woodland realm and they have been at peace since Thranduil became our king. We have not faced a serious attack on our forests for many thousands of years," explained Pela. "But most importantly, he has adopted the Silvan culture as his own, learning our languages and customs instead of imposing the ways of the Sindar upon us."

This news lightened Ellyria's sinking heart and did something to dispel the growing image of a tyrant.

"Thank you for telling me Pela. I appreciate your honesty," replied Ellyria, taking more note of her surroundings and the increasing sound of rushing water coming from up ahead.

"Watch your footing here, the ground can be very slick," warned Pela, gesturing to the wet stone path in a tunnel made almost entirely of stalactites and stalagmites that stood over a rapidly flowing stream.

Ellyria slowed down, not out of caution but to take in the sounds echoing all around her.

Once out of the tunnel, the space opened up into a wide cavern filled with natural light. There were many rows of white cloth covered cots lining both walls, all empty. Water flowed more gently in tracks around the edges of the room, creating a soothing atmosphere.

"I should have been happy to recover here as well," said Ellyria looking around.

"We try to make it as comfortable as possible," agreed Pela, leading her around the corner.

Master Viridian had paused in their path and was looking intently at a scroll of parchment. He looked up when he noticed the two elves approaching in his periphery.

"Good morning, my lady. Pela," said the healer, nodding to both of them.

"Master Viridian," said Ellyria, Pela echoing her sentiments.

"Pela, might I borrow you for a few minutes if Lady Ellyria can spare you?" asked Viridian.

Of course," said Ellyria motioning for Pela to join him.

They both disappeared down a side passage of her left. Ellyria continued walking and noticed there were other halls much like this one, each lined with cots radiating out from this center room.

A soft sound off to her right gave her pause. She waited to hear it again.

The second time she heard it, she set off in search of its source, recognizing the pain within the sound. She walked down a narrower hall off to her right and noticed a huddled form lying in a cot some ten beds away.

On the cot lay a shivering male elf curled on his side, his brown hair damp with sweat eyes tightly closed. He was dressed in a leather tunic, leggings and boots; items worn under armor.

"What happened?" asked Ellyria, kneeling down carefully beside the cot.

The elf managed to open one eye green eye.

Being closer to him, she noticed thin black veins starting to radiate up his throat.

"Spider bite...in the forest," he gasped. "My leg."

Ellyria looked at his legs and saw a tear in his leather leggings on his calf.

"Has Master Viridian been here?" demanded Ellyria, very gingerly touching the area around the wound.

The spider venom was causing a sickly yellow foam to ooze from the tear in his leg.

"Yes I think…" he trailed off, catching his breath.

Ellyria looked at the hallway from whence she had come, glanced at her own side and barely healed wound and made a decision.

"I can heal the poison from the wound which will take care of some of the pain," offered Ellyria, watching the elf closely.

"Please," he whispered.

Ellyria took a deep breath and began a healing chant over the wounded elf. The room blurred as she spoke and time seemed to stop. She felt a tug in her side but no real pain so she continued until all the poison had been purged from the elf before her.

At the last word, she slumped back on her heels and caught her breath, her side suddenly on fire.

But the elf on the cot relaxed visibly and lay back exhausted.

"Thank you," he breathed before slipping unconscious.

Ellyria nodded and pushed herself back to her feet, biting back a whimper that threatened to escape her lips.

She walked as quickly as she could and made it back into the main hall. She pressed a hand to her side as her vision blurred for a moment. The pain from her wound was growing. Ellyria began to walk toward the side passage that Pela and Master Viridian had departed through. Each step grew more difficult and less steady as she steered herself toward the passage.

"Pela?" she called in a voice that was not as strong as she wished it to be.

Ellyria took several deep breaths before trying for Pela or Viridian again.

No answer.

Ellyria moved back toward the entrance to the main hall thinking she would try to make it back to her room but in vain. The pain was starting to double her over and the dress fabric beneath her hand felt wet.

She staggered to one of the cots and sat down on it heavily, focusing on the ground and her breathing. In the distance, she thought she heard a male voice call her name. Ellyria shut her eyes and lay back on the cot, drawing her legs up so her side would not stretch. She covered her wound with both hands and began the healing chant again, focusing everything she had on it.

"Lady Ellyria!"

The voice spoke her name again very close by and a strong hand gripped her shoulder.

She stopped chanting and opened her eyes to see Lord Thranduil bending over her, his face a frowning mask of concern. His brown robes had streaks of pale blue fabric that intensified the piercing quality of his eyes.

He commanded the guard that had come in with him to fetch Master Viridian.

"I can take care of this…" began Ellyria but the King spoke at the same time.

"What happened?"

"I healed the poison from a guard with a spider bite. It did not require much effort…" but the King interrupted her again.

"You used your power when you were not healed yourself?" demanded Thranduil, the edge in his voice grating against her ears.

"I can heal myself…"

But she may as well have stayed silent for all the attention the King paid to her.

He reached out and removed her hands from her side. His look sharpened when he saw the growing stain.

"Please just…" tried Ellyria again, trying to pull her hands from his grasp.

"Enough. You are not dying here, you foolish girl," snapped Lord Thranduil placing his own hand over the wound on her side and closing his eyes.

"Wait! You shouldn't…" begged Ellyria but he had already begun.

She didn't recognize the elven words he was saying, his voice washing over her as his own power touched her.

Ellyria blinked and everything before her changed.

The hall, the King and the water sounds all fell away into darkness. She gasped in fear and blinked again, her heart racing.

When she opened her eyes the second time, she was kneeling on a blackened battlefield strewn with dead elves and orcs beyond counting. The stink of blood, smoke and death rushed into her lungs, making her breathing painful. The sky was nearly as dark as the earth except for a great mountain in the distance whose tip seemed to be on fire. The sound of thunder, drums mixed with the screams of the dying took the place of the soothing water noises.

Ellyria looked down and realized she was dressed in armor she had never seen before and long white hair blew around her face. There was a dead elf that had been pulled almost into her lap. He wore a silver crown and had white hair and strong features very like the King's. She was able to take in these details before a crushing wave of desolation and sadness filled her. This person in her lap had meant everything. And now they were gone forever.

Another male elf appeared next to her and fell to his knees beside her.

"Feren."

Thranduil's voice came brokenly from her.

The elf looked at her, tears running down his cheeks, leaving clear streaks in the dirt and blood that caked his face.

He looked down at the fallen figure in her lap and then back at her.

"It is finished Thranduil. My King," said the elf called Feren placing his hand on his chest and bowing down to her.

The ocean of sadness drowning Ellyria became mixed with a dreadful sense of responsibility, the weight of it threatening to swallow her up.

She rose shakily to feet that were not hers and turned around to see elves, battered and exhausted gathering in a cluster before her. One by one, each elf put a hand on his chest and bowed before her.

Mechanically, she turned around and bent back down to the fallen elf with white blond hair. With shaking hands, she removed the silver crown and stood up again. The crown, flecked with black and red blood, felt as heavy as stone in her hands. The crown and her vision began to blur; an agonizing scream was clawing its way up her throat, fighting to be free. To give voice to the injustice, despair and heavy sense of unwanted duty consuming her.

She could not get her breath. She could not see the blackness surrounding her clearly.

This nightmare flickered suddenly and she saw the healing hall and Thranduil bending over her before the horror re established itself. Ellyria tried to fight against it, gasping for air as tears flowed down her face.

With every ounce of strength she could gather she reached out and the world flashed back to the healing hall. She pressed her hand to the King's face, and breathed his name, her voice breaking as the emotions and visions of the other place overwhelmed her.

"Stop. Please," she begged, choking on her tears.

She was too overwrought to see the same expression of horror and loss reflected in Thranduil's face as he stopped chanting and removed his hand from her side. He froze, staring down at her, as though she had died.

Ellyria curled into a protective ball and sobbed brokenly into the pillow on the cot, the horrible images and feelings burned into her mind.

She did not see Master Viridian and Pela run over to them and Viridian pull the King back.

"What did you do?" demanded Viridian, looking from Ellyria's prostrate form to the stricken King. Pela knelt down by Ellyria and tried to speak to her with no result.

"She healed another and reopened her wound. I found her here and healed her myself," Thranduil made himself say.

Viridian grabbed the King's hands and inspected them, wiping away Ellyria's blood on his own robe.

"What happened? Are you in pain?" continued Viridian, looking into the King's face analytically.

"No I am well. I…" Thranduil trailed off, still looking down at Ellyria.

"Go to my solar. I will be as soon as I know Lady Ellyria is out of danger," commanded the Master healer, meeting the King's distracted eyes.

Thranduil focused on him and forced himself to nod.

"Go."

He turned away from Lady Ellyria's crumpled, hysterical form and took long strides toward Viridian's solar, her racking sobs chasing after him.

The King walked in a daze to Viridian's solar. Once there, he sank onto a bed and tried to understand what had happened. He was still lost in thought when Viridian swept in.

"Will she live?" he asked absently.

"Yes. Her wound is completely healed. I had to give her a whole vial of poppy tincture to calm her down. She is unconscious and will remain in the healing hall under my supervision for the rest of the day and night. My lord, I warned you against healing her," reprimanded Viridian, coming to stand before Thranduil's seated form.

"Because you thought it would be dangerous to me and it was not," replied the King, rising.

"Then what is this look of blank horror written in your face?"

Thranduil met Viridian's steely gaze for the first time.

"When I healed her, something happened. I saw something," he said, trying to understand what it was he had seen.

"What did you see?" prompted Viridian.

"It looked like a memory but it was not mine. It was hers," explained the King, frowning in confusion.

"You saw a memory of hers when you healed her?"

"But it was as if I was reliving it through her eyes," described Lord Thranduil, starting to pace around the small room.

"My lord what you are describing sounds like transference," suggested Viridian heading to a nearby bookcase.

Thranduil stopped in his tracks.

"Transference?"

He turned to face Viridian's retreating back.

"Yes, I have known a few elves who have experienced such a thing and it seems to fit what you are describing," said Viridian, pulling a dusty tome off the shelf.

"But transference only happens between two elves who have a deep kinship and understanding of one another. I barely know her and we do not understand each other," argued Thranduil as Viridian approached him, paging through the book in hand

"Nevertheless, it happened."

Thranduil looked away, thinking.

"If I saw a memory of hers, then it is possible she saw one of mine?" he posited.

"Yes, and it did not seem to be a pleasant one if her reaction is anything to judge it by," said Viridian quietly.

"Hers was not… a good memory either," remarked Thranduil, pushing aside the images he had seen.

Viridian handed him the volume, and pointed to a passage on the page.

The King read the elven words in silence and then handed the book back to the healer.

"I do not understand why this happened. I never experienced anything like this with my wife, why would I with an elf not of my realm whom I met a month ago?"

"I cannot explain that, my lord. You will have to speak with Lady Ellyria about it but I would wait several days. I do not think she will be herself for a time."

"Nor will I," murmured Lord Thranduil, his usually sharp eyes unfocused in thought.

"Why were you there at all, my lord, if I may ask," questioned Viridian, replacing the book on his shelves.

"I had gone to Lady Ellyria's room; I wished to speak with her about...something I said. When she was not there, I inquired after her whereabouts and was told that she and Pela had gone to the healing hall. I walked in and found her on a cot, clutching her side. No other healer was near so I took care of it myself," explained the King.

"You took a risk, my lord," chided Viridian coming to stand before the King, but his face betrayed his concern, not his censure.

"I take a risk every time I leave the Woodland realm, Viridian; nothing is certain nor ever will be," replied the son without a father.

"Take some time to calm your thoughts, my lord. Please," suggested the healer, sensing a returning gloom in his King such that he had not seen for many centuries.

Lord Thranduil touched his chest and inclined his head respectfully to Viridian, who returned the gesture, before turning and striding out. He went to the glade but it did not please him. He returned to his chamber and shut the door behind him. Thranduil poured himself a goblet of wine and drank it quickly.

"My lord?" asked a quiet voice from the other side of the room.

The King smiled to himself, knowing it was Melia who would be concerned that he was here at an odd time. He turned and looked at the slender elf.

"I am well, Melia; thank you. You may go," dismissed the King, not unkindly.

The smaller elf nodded and disappeared as silently as he had come.

Thranduil poured himself another goblet and went to stand at the opening in the far wall that looked out on a fearsome but beautiful waterfall on the distant wall of the cave. He watched the swirling waves for hours without moving.

Lady Ellyria woke in the middle of the night but did not rise or speak. She took in the fact that she was still in the healing hall and that Pela was sleeping soundly in the cot next to hers. Both the women were covered in heavy quilts. As the memories came back of what had happened, Ellyria closed her eyes against them and resumed trying to sleep.

In the morning, she got up to relieve herself and then went back to her cot; the heaviness in her limbs replaced by a heaviness in her heart that she recognized all too well.

She drifted in and out of consciousness all day; ate because she was told to, without tasting anything, and then resumed her search for oblivion.

Felinor found her the day after that and between him and Pela, they were able to get Lady Ellyria back to her room, though she said little and continued to eat less.

"Has she ever been like this?" asked Pela of Felinor as they were both leaving her room.

He nodded.

"Once. Nothing I said then brought her out of it; she drew herself up one day and decided to carry on. What happened to her?" asked Felinor outside her door.

"I do not know. All I saw was the King bending over her and her look of terror and pain. He did not look much better. Viridian went to speak with the King after but whatever he learned, he has kept to himself. The King went to a council meeting yesterday so whatever this is has not affected him as it has her," explained Pela worriedly.

"Should I try speaking to her about it?" asked Pela.

"I already tried a few times to no avail. You may though I doubt you'll get an answer," replied Felinor, staring at her closed door, lost in thought.

"If her appetite does not improve soon, something will have to be done. She is barely eating enough to keep an elfling alive," Pela whispered, nearly wringing her hands.

"Perhaps, it may help if the King were to speak with her about it since it seems to be he who caused this change in her," Felinor said, looking at Pela. "Though I think I would be outside my bounds to speak of such things to him."

"I can find Master Viridian and suggest it to him. He can speak with the King," decided Pela, squaring her slight shoulders.

Felinor nodded and bid her good morning.

Pela left in search of Master Viridian.

"My lord, may I have a few minutes of your time?" asked Viridian, stepping into the King's room.

Thranduil looked over him from a balcony edge and nodded, beckoning him closer.

"What is it?" asked Thranduil watching his friend's worried face.

"It is a request I wish to make of you, my lord," began Viridian, watching the King's face.

"You have but to ask."

"It's Lady Ellyria. She has all but stopped eating and I fear for her health even though there is no wound to heal or poison to cure," Viridian informed the King.

Concern tugged Thranduil's face into a frown.

"It may help if you were to speak to her about what happened. She is lost in grief that should not be hers if transference truly occurred, Thranduil," urged Viridian.

"You are right Viridian. I should have gone to her sooner. It is not your responsibility to make this right. I can see her now before her health fails any further," agreed Lord Thranduil, nodding.

"Thank you, my lord," Viridian said, trying to hide his relief.

"You have not spoken of this to anyone, I trust?" asked Thranduil as Viridian was leaving.

"No, my lord. No one knows what passed between you except the two of you and in part myself. She has not spoken to anyone for two days," answered Viridian.

"Thank you, Viridian," said the King warmly.

Viridian merely smiled and inclined his head and then was gone.

Thranduil took a deep breath a tried to prepare for the hard conversation he knew was ahead. There were so many horrors in his past; he wondered which one he had burdened her with.

Thranduil straightened and squared his broad shoulders then strode purposefully to the door.


	6. The World Anew

The World Anew

Pela went to answer the knock on Lady Ellyria's door, grateful for the interruption. Sad silence had hung heavily in her room for more than a day. Ellyria remained listless and mute.

Pela pulled the door open and bowed quickly when she saw the King.

"Is Lady Ellyria awake, Pela?" he asked quietly, not wishing to disturb her if she was not.

Pela nodded and motioned for him to come into the room. Thranduil entered tentatively and waited near the door while Pela went to tell Ellyria that he had arrived.

"My lady, Lord Thranduil wishes to speak with you," whispered Pela, as she stood next to Ellyria before the window.

Ellyria looked at her with something like engagement and then fear flitted over face.

"Thank you," said Ellyria softly, turning to face the King on the other side of the room.

Pela nodded and left the two of them alone.

"My lord," Ellyria managed to say, bowing.

"My lady," returned Thranduil gently coming to stand near her.

He wore no crown again and his robes were the color of the grass in the glade, sparkling with morning dew.

They simply looked at each other for a moment before Ellyria dropped her eyes and forced herself to speak.

"I feel I should thank you, my lord," she started.

"Thank me?" Thranduil interrupted incredulously.

She looked at him again.

"Yes, my wound is gone; only a pale scar remains and much of the heaviness in me has passed. I feel more myself than I have for the last month, so yes, thank you," she explained, touching her side when the wound had been.

The King nodded acknowledging the compliment but he remained concerned.

"And yet I am told you barely eat or speak," countered Thranduil, watching her.

"I…" Ellyria wasn't sure how to tell him the cause of her distress.

"My lady, when I healed you, you saw something...that was not yours to see but you had no choice. Is that so?" asked the King, trying to make it a little easier for her.

"Yes, I don't know what happened. I've never experienced anything like that before," apologized Ellyria.

"Nor I," said Thranduil. "May I ask what it is that you saw that so distressed you?"

"I think it may have been a memory of yours, my lord. It was nothing I've ever seen, nor wish to," she answered, hoping her voice would not fail her as she spoke.

She tried to describe the darkness, the wasteland of death and despair she had seen. And the one fallen figure that had seemed to matter more than all of them combined.

When she had finished, Lord Thranduil turned away from her and looked out the window with a grimace.

"Of all the things you could have seen, you saw the death of my father and the end of a battle we should never have had to fight in the first place," murmured the King bitterly, closing his eyes to suppress the memory she had conjured. The placed his hands flat on the carven sill and fought his demons in silence.

The sudden pressure of Lady Ellyria's hand over his caused him to open his eyes and look down at her hand covering his.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, next to him.

He met her damp eyes and saw his pain reflected there.

"I felt it. I thought I was going to be torn apart, drowned and crushed by all the grief, anger and hopelessness," Ellyria said softly.

"It is I who am sorry. You should never have had to go through that," replied Thranduil , removing his hand from under hers, pressing hers lightly and then standing with them behind his back.

Ellyria smiled sadly.

"It was horrible but, the feelings, though more intense than anything I've known, are not new to me," related the elf, bowing her head.

"I know," was the King's reply.

Ellyria looked over at him with a frown, her face a question.

"I believe what happened is called transference. It is the sharing of memories between two people usually who have a deep intimacy," said Thranduil.

"That does not sound like us," Ellyria muttered pensively.

"A sharing of memories...does that mean you saw one of mine?" asked Ellyria, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

Thranduil nodded.

"What did you see?" asked Ellyria, searching his face as if the answer were somehow there and not on his lips.

"I have no wish to cause you more pain," Thranduil tried to dissuade her.

"It is only fair. I have something of yours that I should not; I wish to know what you have of mine," Ellyria simplified.

"It seemed to be mid morning in Eastwood; the white trees and golden leaves were very distinct. You were running through the woods with another elf maiden. She had raven hair and wore a deep purple dress," recounted the King. "She was following you to the edge of your realm where there were some darkened caves."

"Celeste," breathed Ellyria, closing her eyes and turning away from the other elf.

"Go on. Tell me everything," prompted Ellyria, clutching her hands to her chest when the King did not resume speaking.

"You wanted to explore them but she warned you away. After some persuading, you agreed to walk as far into one cave as you dared while she went in another as a sort of game."

Tears pricked Ellyria's eyes but she said nothing.

"You made it ten paces before you heard her scream. You ran out of your cave just in time to see her running from two orcs that had emerged from the other cave. One… killed her," said Thranduil shortly, not wishing to describe the crude spear that had gone through the girl's back and erupted with a fountain of blood from her chest.

"And then they came for you. You had a sword but had not learned to use it well enough to defend yourself. One of them knocked you down and cut your back," edited Thranduil again, the ripping sounds of fabric and flesh echoing in his ears along with her screams as the three pronged trident ripped across her back.

Ellyria covered her mouth, tears flowing freely down her face.

"A small squad of soldiers arrived and killed the orcs. Captain Felinor bending over you was the last thing I saw," finished Thranduil, relieved to be done.

He took a breath and stood back, not knowing if any sort of comfort he could offer would be welcome.

"She was my best friend, my sister, my everything. And I killed her," said Ellyria brokenly, wiping angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

"The orcs killed her," corrected Thranduil, seeing where this path led.

"She would not have been there to be killed if I had not persuaded her to come with me. I was so stupid. I couldn't fight," she took a deep breath to drive down the urge to throw herself on her bed and sob.

"You could not have known what would happen. You should not blame yourself, Lady Ellyria," Thranduil tried again.

"But I do. I always have and I always will. And I will live forever with that knowledge," whispered Ellyria, defeated.

"You have not let it consume you. You must push it back again," the King told her, taking a small step toward her.

Ellyria let out a breath and looked at him.

"My pain was so minor compared to yours; an annoyance rather than losing a limb. How did you survive it?" asked Ellyria, disbelieving.

"Because I did not have the luxury of dying. My people needed a leader and it was my duty to fill that need though I would gladly have lain down next to my father and never moved again in this life," the King ground out.

She looked at him sadly and shook her head.

"After she was gone, I was ill for many months. I wanted to die but never did. When I came out of it, my hair had changed," recounted Ellyria, touching the stray blonde locks that framed her oval face.

"I vowed that I would learn to fight and learn to heal so that I would never again be useless," said Ellyria, smiling at her own words.

She glanced at Thranduil.

"I'm sure that sounds childish to you but it gave me purpose at the time."

"I am not proud to recall my early days as King. I cannot judge you for how you dealt with your pain," admitted Lord Thranduil, inclining his head to her.

"It does not seem right that only two people should have so much sorrow between them. We seem to have shared the worst in each other," she observed ruefully.

"It may have been for the best, if you can see it that way," suggested the King.

Ellyria searched his eyes in confusion.

"True, it was horrible what happened to you but knowing that, I understand now why you stepped in front of the ax for me and healed that guard when it could have seriously wounded you again," explained the older elf.

Ellyria nodded.

"And I understand why you close your doors and do not desire to leave them. It is not coldness but the desire to keep your people safe above all else because you have seen what could happen to them in the outside world," uttered Ellyria looking at him in a different light.

"If Eastwood had asked for aid, I would have ridden out," confirmed the King, aware that the question was still hanging between them.

"Thank you," Ellyria said, her voice cracking.

She looked away again for a moment and swallowed hard.

"Now that we have cleared the air, so to speak, will you be easier in your mind?" asked the King, still worried for her health.

"Yes. I will not let this control me any longer," she promised, with a determined look.

"Good. Might I ask you to consider having dinner with me again tonight? I wish to be certain you are eating," encouraged Thranduil with a small smile.

Ellyria returned it.

"Yes I would like that."

"What do you like to eat?"

Ellyria laughed in spite of herself.

Thranduil was pleased to see she could do so without doubling up in pain.

"You did not consult me last time," she protested.

"Last time you were eating regularly. How will I know what to tempt you with if I do not know what pleases you?" he pressed.

Ellyria thought for a moment.

"Raspberries, cheeses, late season elderflower wine, honey tarts," she listed some of her favorites. "Though it might be safer to have bread and a soup. My stomach is not pleased."

Thranduil inclined his white head to her.

"You shall have them."

"Until tonight then," said the King preparing to leave.

Ellyria nodded and smiled, not trusting her voice.

Before Thranduil could leave, she stopped him.

"Thank you for coming to speak to me. I know I have consumed more of your time than I should have," tried Ellyria.

Thranduil turned back to her.

"You do not 'consume my time', my lady; you improve it. I am only sorry now that I did not come sooner. "

Ellyria smiled and felt her chest tighten for a different reason as the King looked at her.

She did not have a response as she watched the King glide out through her door.

After a moment, she went over to her table that held a small platter of food and ate steadily for a few minutes before collapsing on her bed. The tired elf slipped into the deep dreaming state almost instantly.

When Pela came in several hours later, Ellyria woke and rose to apologize to her.

"It's not necessary, Lady Ellyria," Pela tried to protest but Ellyria assured her that it was and drew the surprised elf into an embrace.

Ellyria explained what had truly happened without going into any details that would betray the confidence of the King.

"And you are to have dinner with him tonight? I'll get a bath going and you choose your dress," said Pela decisively, heading back out the door.

They spoke until Melia came to bring her to dinner with Thranduil.

They took a different path this time; one with a few staircases that left Ellyria a little winded due to lack of eating but she did not feel faint.

Melia showed her into an outdoor courtyard with an excellent view of the setting sun against the mountains in the distance. A large table set for two sat in the middle of the stone courtyard, the warm breeze ruffling the cloth. The smell of warm soup and hearty bread drifted over to her and her stomach growled in a very unladylike manner.

"Lady Ellyria, my lord," announced Melia, bowing to the King who was speaking to another elf opposite them.

Ellyria recognized the other elf as Feren, the soldier that had been with the King in the memory she saw.

They both looked over at her when Melia spoke and then Thranduil dismissed Feren who took a different path out of the courtyard. Melia evaporated from beside her.

"Good evening. I trust the stairs were not too much?" asked Thranduil, the sun glinting warmly on his golden robes.

"No, I am only a little tired but hungry," she admitted with a smile.

"Glad to hear it. There is enough food here to feed a small army," murmured Thranduil under his breath, glancing over at a few elves who were arranging platters of food at their table.

Ellyria laughed.

When they were seated, her eyes went wide at the cheese plate beside her. There were many she had never even seen before.

"I did not know there were this many different ones in all of middle earth," exclaimed the young elf, choosing a smooth white cube and eating it.

"There are many beyond that, my lady," said Thranduil with a smile, taking a drink of wine.

She ate a warm spiced soup and far too much bread, in between small handfuls of raspberries from a brimming nearby bowl.

Thranduil and Ellyria spoke more easily to each other; honest words were spoken instead of empty ones merely to fill the silence between them. They talked until the stars blinked at them and the moon beamed down on them.

When he had escorted her back to her room, he asked for her to join him at dinner for the rest of the week.

"To ensure you keep eating," explained the King, in a tone bordering on playful.

"Smaller cheese plates then or you will need to roll me out of your realm like an empty wine barrel," requested Ellyria, holding her straining stomach.

Thranduil laughed and it gladdened her heart to hear it.

"I will pass on your request. Until tomorrow, Ellyria," the King said, bidding her good night.

"Good night, Lord Thranduil."

She watched him walk away and stayed still long after he left. Finally, she opened her door and retired for the night.

"Do not swim too far out, Lady Ellyria," called Pela from the shore, as Ellyria gracefully glided away.

"I will float rather than swim," she replied, turning onto her back.

She let the cool water flow around her as the gentle waves of her hands propelled her slowly across the Serene Pool. The water was as clear as glass and only darkness prevented her from being able to see all the way to the bottom of the pool. Far above her, the light danced in flashes on the cavern ceiling, reflections from the midday sun streaming in from an opening in the cave on the far side of the pool.

Ellyria paused in her swim to look around and make sure she was not in danger of running into the ledge on the far wall yet. She had only reached the middle. She went under for a moment to clear the wandering hair from her face and then continued on, enjoying herself.

Back at the pool's edge, Felinor walked up to the bench Pela was sitting on.

"Good morning, Pela," said the captain, inclining his head to her.

"Captain," she replied with a smile. "Please," the elf gestured to the space beside her.

Felinor sat down and looked out at Ellyria's distant form.

"She has recovered then?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, it would appear so. Her wound is completely healed," confirmed the healer.

"If she is well, then you don't need to worry over her anymore, Pela," suggested Felinor, following Ellyria's floating form as she touched the far side of the pool and started back toward them.

"Her strength is not yet what it used to be. If she misjudges it in the middle of the pool, I would not have her be alone," replied Pela.

"And you could save her?" asked Felinor, sizing up Pela.

"Yes. Size is not everything, Captain."

"It doesn't hurt though," murmured Felinor.

"Has she spoken to you at all of leaving our realm?" asked Pela after a moment of silence.

"No, not at all. It is strange for her to be so comfortable in a realm that is not Eastwood,"

"She has dined with the King the last three nights," Pela informed him.

Felinor raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps that is the reason she has not broached the subject of leaving; she is enjoying herself and the King it seems is not anxious to see the back of her either," Felinor concluded.

"I will try to speak with her when she finishes swimming. If you have other duties that require your attention Pela, I will stay with her. I can rescue her too if need be," he smiled and inclined his head to the other elf.

"Thank you, captain," said Pela, rising.

She indicated a robe and a large towel on the bench beside her before leaving.

Felinor fixed his gaze on Ellyria again, a slight frown taking up residence on his otherwise congenial face.

Out in the center of the lake, Ellyria remained content and unaware of Felinor's growing concern. Her ears stayed below the waterline as she enjoyed the silence. She smiled suddenly to herself and flipped onto her stomach, swimming the rest of the way back. When she could touch the ground, she stopped and stood up, looking in Felinor's direction.

"What happened to Pela?" she called, striding forward as the water sluiced off her blue swimming gown and out of her long brown hair.

"I offered to take her place," said Felinor, standing with a large towel in his hands.

"Neither of you really needs to be with me constantly anymore," Ellyria reminded him, drying herself as best she could before pulling on the thick robe.

"I am pleased to see you yourself again," smiled Felinor as she claimed her independence.

"So am I. Though I do still feel more tired than I should even after that short swim," remarked Ellyria with a frown as she and Felinor left the Serene Pool.

"Ellyria, may I speak with you?" asked her captain, as they walked back to her room.

"Of course Felinor. You know you don't need to ask. What is it?" queried the elf looking over at her friend.

"It seems that you are well enough now to ride a horse. Maybe not for a long distance but certainly for the few hours needed to get back to Eastwood. And yet, we are here still," Felinor observed, watching her reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Ellyria looked down at the path they were walking on.

"Yes. I suppose I am well enough to leave. When I arrived here, for those first few days, I wanted nothing more than to be gone. But now, that I can leave, I feel as though that is the last thing I want," replied Ellyria, feeling troubled.

"Do you like it here Felinor? You have not been unhappy here?" asked Ellyria looking over at him again.

"No, I like it here just as well as Eastwood. But your father is no doubt worried about you," Felinor tried again.

"I wrote to him yesterday to tell him that I was perfectly well and that he needn't worry about me at all. I said that I would see him soon."

Felinor was silent.

"What are you truly trying to say, Felinor? I have never known you to speak to me in half truths," Ellyria wondered.

Felinor thought about his next words very carefully.

"Ellyria, I am pleased that you are on good terms with Lord Thranduil. Your father would approve of strengthening Eastwood's ties with the Woodland realm but…." he trailed off as the reached her door.

"But what?" she asked, not opening the door and waiting for him to speak.

"Perhaps we should go inside?"

Ellyria tried to read him and failed. She turned with an impatient sigh and opened the door to her room. Once inside, she turned to face him again, her look demanding an answer.

Felinor shut the door and faced her.

"Ellyria I worry that you grow too fond of him," said Felinor, looking at her hesitantly as though waiting for a storm to break.

"Of the King of the Woodland Realm you mean?" Ellyria asked incredulously.

Felinor said nothing but looked at her meaningfully.

Ellyria shook her head and looked at the floor.

"I do enjoy his company, Felinor, but I understand what you are saying. What would be the point of growing fond of him? It would bring me nothing but emptiness and heartache, I know that," Ellyria assured him.

"Your head and your heart have been at odds before."

Ellyria sighed.

"Thank you for saying something Felinor. It was good to hear it aloud: to realize how foolish it sounded," agreed Ellyria, smiling at him.

Felinor nodded and returned the smile.

"I would not see you hurt again," he said quietly.

"Felinor, one day you will realize it is not your duty to save me from harm every time I grow near it," Ellyria reminded him taking a step closer to him.

"But I hear you, my friend. One more week, let us say, and then we will take our leave of the Woodland Realm," compromised Ellyria, watching him.

Felinor nodded.

"I will leave you to change. Do you know where the sparing courts are?" he asked, as he was leaving.

"Yes, I think Pela showed me where they were some time ago. I should be able to find them," replied Ellyria, thinking back to the winding paths they had taken to the open air courts where many elves were practicing their swordsmanship.

"Good. Meet me there tomorrow at noon. You haven't held a sword for a month; perhaps I will finally best you," taunted Felinor.

Ellyria laughed.

"Hold that dream close to your heart, Felinor. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, raising a hand to him as he left.

When he had gone, Ellyria changed and continued trying to dry her long hair. As she sat on her bed, brushing out the tangles, she thought on Felinor's words.

Her first impressions of the King had been awe and fear; someone out of time, larger than anyone she had met. Upon further acquaintance though, he had become more real and a little less intimidating. His views, even though she understood them, she still did not always agree with them. And while her chest still tightened when he looked at her, whereas it used to be fear, now it was something else. The 'something else' worried Felinor and now that he had voiced it aloud, it worried her as well.

She glanced out her window and realized the light amongst the trees in the cave was increasingly orange. Ellyria, hurriedly braided her hair around the crown her head. She had just finished when Melia arrived to escort her to dinner.

They had never dined in the same room twice and tonight was no different. She was taken to an inner room that opened at the end of a tunnel, lit by dozen lanterns. Some rested on the floor and others hung from blackened brackets on the stone walls.

Ellyria stopped and gasped when she stepped inside.

The space itself was no larger than twenty paces by twenty paces but that was not the source of her amazement. The entire ceiling sparkled as though imitating the night sky; bright flecks twinkled at her out of the stone.

Thranduil rose from his chair to greet her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked coming to stand before her. His own robes the color of an ocean storm, sparkled as well.

"Are they gems?" she asked, glancing at him in wonder and then going over to the cavern wall to touch it.

"A dusting of fragments only, each no larger than a grain of sand," replied Thranduil, not moving with her.

She admired it for another minute and then fixed him with a look and a raised eyebrow.

"Do you eat in here often?" she asked with a smile, gesturing to the small round table set for two and brimming with food.

"I have never eaten in here though I have visited this place many a time," replied the King, extending a hand and inviting her to sit.

Several elves finished adding platters of food and filling their goblets and then disappeared out another tunnel, leaving them alone.

"I suppose you can eat wherever you like," acquiesced the elf, inclining her head to him and then seating herself at the table.

Lord Thranduil pushed in her chair once she was seated and then resumed his own.

Dinner was delicious, as it always was and while the cheese plates had shrunk at her request, the variety had not. And tonight there were honey tarts.

"No, please. I cannot eat anymore, my lord," begged Ellyria, sitting back in her chair and waving away the plate of honey tarts an hour or so later.

"Perhaps a walk then if you are not too tired?" asked Thranduil rising.

"Yes, that would be wise after such a meal," agreed Ellyria, standing and following the King out the tunnel she had come in by.

"Do you feel able to handle a staircase, Ellyria?" asked Thranduil as they paused before a sweeping one that led to a balcony that jutted out into the cave from some other part of the mountain. It was well lit as if to invite visitors, but the white carven doors of the balcony were closed.

"Yes, I think I am well enough although I may need to sit once we reach that room," said Ellyria indicating the balcony with a nod.

"There is a place to rest at the top," confirmed the King.

"What is it?" asked Ellyria, pausing at the foot of the stone stairs.

Thranduil looked up the stairs at the doors.

"It is where I go to find peace when I can find it nowhere else," he said quietly. He turned his snowy head to look at her.

"I wish you to see it."

Thranduil extended a hand to her but she declined hesitantly.

"Please, I wish to see if I can make it on my own power, if that does not offend you."

Thranduil smiled indulgently and dropped his hand.

"Lead on," he offered, his blue eyes glinting with amusement.

Ellyria nodded to him, gathered the front of her dress in her hands and slowly began to ascend the stairs with the King at her side.

"Do you come here often?" she asked as they reached the first of three flat landings that interrupted the stairs' steep ascent.

"Only in times of great distress. I find the room soothing and conducive to contemplation. I know I will not be disturbed here," explained Thranduil, his own full robes whispering on the steps behind him.

Ellyria looked at him questioningly.

"No one else is allowed up here."

Ellyria paused on the last landing, partly to catch her breath but also to acknowledge that he was allowing her to see it. She looked longingly at the last thirty odd stairs before the doors, and tried to slow her hammering heart.

"Now?" asked Lord Thranduil, extending his hand again.

Ellyria nodded gratefully.

"Thank you."

They climbed the last section together and at the top, Ellyria waited for him to open the door.

He threaded his fingers through the narrow opening where a handle should have been, and pulled the door on the right open, gesturing for Lady Ellyria to walk inside. She nodded at him, took another deep breath and stepped into his chamber.

Her feet walked automatically forward as her mouth fell open in wonder.

The pale, circular room unfolded around her, its white light flickering on decorative carven arches in the walls. Deep green leafy plants edged the floor of the room. Off to Ellyria's right, there was a large, grey bench covered in soft cushions and blankets. Directly before her was a long rectangular pool that mirrored the night sky filtering in from a precisely carved hole in the ceiling. The black water in the pool shimmered with the reflections of hundreds of stars. Gentle sounds of the evening drifted in as well, birds and the wind in the trees far below.

"My lord," she breathed, tears coming to her eyes at the tranquility surrounding her.

She looked back at him. The King had stayed just inside the doors, not wishing to spoil her view. He looked pleased as he watched the wonder on her face.

Ellyria turned back and walked to the raised edge of the starry pool. She crouched down by it and very gently tapped the surface with one finger. The reflection blurred and for an instant, the whole pool was filled with white light with only a little darkness showing through.

"You have brought the stars to you," she said, looking back at him again with a smile.

Thranduil smiled and approached her.

"Was this worth the climb?" he asked although he had a good idea what the answer was as Ellyria wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes.

"This would be worth the climb of any height," she confirmed reverently.

Her legs gave a warning twinge and she rose to her feet again unsteadily.

"You need to rest," observed the King, reaching for her hand again.

Just as her heart was starting to calm, it jumped again as he took her hand in his and led her to the grey bench. He lowered her onto it and then sat down beside her.

"If I had a room like this I would never want to leave it," she whispered.

Thranduil was silent for a time.

"When I returned with my people after the battle of Dagorlad, and we had buried my father, I stayed here for days. It was the only place I felt I could breathe without wanting to howl my pain into the night."

Ellyria watched him speak and said nothing. He had not spoken like this to her yet and she did not want to interrupt.

"What brought you back?" asked Ellyria when he did not continue.

Thranduil smiled ruefully.

"Master Viridian and Captain Feren told me of the discord among the tribes and that there would be more fighting soon if I did not take up my rightful place. It was my duty to serve my people; to reject it would have been selfish and possibly the end of any peace my realm had left," recounted the King, staring straight ahead at the pool of stars.

Ellyria wanted to place her hand over his as she had done before but the conversation with Felinor this afternoon was still fresh in her mind and she left her hand in her lap. She looked ahead at the pool as well, not wanting to stare.

"Your realm is much the better for it," was all she could think to say.

The King did not respond.

"That is the one thing I envy about humans and dwarves," Ellyria said after a time.

Thranduil looked at her.

She glanced at him and then back to the pool.

"Whatever grief they must bear, they only need to live with it for a lifetime or two. Elves spend an eternity with theirs," explained the elf softly. "One would think we would have come up with better ways for dealing with it."

"I closed my realm's doors for a hundred years," said Thranduil.

"And I ran away from home," echoed Ellyria, smiling at him ruefully.

They both laughed quietly and then resumed their silence.

Ellyria stifled a yawn with her hand.

"You should get some rest. There are more stairs than I remembered," said Lord Thranduil, leaning forward to stand.

"I am honored that you brought me here. May we stay for a few more minutes?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

"We can stay as long as you like," he replied, settling back against the bench.

Ellyria drank in the room, the sounds and gentle scent of incense, knowing that she may never see it again. When the thought threatened to overwhelm her, she nodded and rose.

She accepted the King's hand for the descent and bid him good night at her door.

"May your rest be peaceful and deep," replied Lord Thranduil inclining his head to her before turning and walking back down the path.

Ellyria watched him go until his figure was lost to view and then slowly opened the door to her chamber. The Woodland Realm had charmed her and she would be sorry to leave it. But each day that passed, she grew more afraid of having to bid farewell to its King.


	7. A Sudden Departure

Sudden Departure

Ellyria spun the two practice swords in slow arcs at her sides, reacquainting herself with the feel and weight of the faux weapons.

"I've missed this," she said quietly, looking at Felinor with his own wooden swords.

"Half speed only, Ellyria. Just to warm up," suggested Felinor, sweeping the sword in his right hand around in an arc.

She nodded and approached him, one sword at level with her chest, the other still lowered at her side.

Ellyria and Felinor went through all the forms for two handed sword fighting easily.

"Again," requested Ellyria, bringing her sword up.

They went through the forms several more times.

"How are you feeling?" asked Felinor when they had finished.

Ellyria smiled widely.

"Again, full speed."

Felinor barely brought his sword up in time to block her thrust but he adjusted quickly. His movements mirrored the counterpoints of hers, his sword waiting to meet hers.

"I am not tired yet. Spar?" asked Ellyria hopefully, though she could tell the swords were feeling heavier in her hands than they had a moment ago.

"Call it when you are through," agreed Felinor bringing his own sword up this time but she answered it easily.

She fought back in earnest, searching for an opening. He caught her once on the hip and she cracked hers on his thigh before he was able knock one sword completely from her hand.

Ellyria stopped and stared at her hand as though it had betrayed her, but only for a second before she tried to keep attacking with her remaining sword. She was able to keep up for another minute before Felinor was able to swipe that sword from her hand as well.

"Enough," she panted, bending down and resting her hands on her legs for support while she caught her breath.

"Come, sit down," urged Felinor, taking her by the arm and leading her to a nearby bench.

"This is disgraceful," she breathed, wiping her hands on her leggings and flexing her fingers.

"You are still too hard on yourself, Ellyria," Felinor said trying to placate her.

"The wound is gone and with it much of the poison," countered Ellyria.

"But not all. It has only been a little over a month, Ellyria. You are most impatient, for an elf," chided Felinor gently.

"You would be too were you in my place Felinor. I remember what you were like when took that spear to the leg last century," retorted Ellyria.

Felinor smiled in chagrin.

"I had hoped you would have forgotten that by now," he said glancing at her.

"What you are saying to me now is very similar to what I tried to say to you then. We shall have to find better ways to encourage one another when one of us is wounded," Ellyria said with a fond smile.

"Or we could just stop getting wounded," quipped Felinor.

Ellyria laughed.

"Well that is the ideal situation, yes. Come, one more round and then I will rest for the day," she said rising and picking up her practice swords.

Their second session was longer than the first but it ended much the same way with Felinor disarming her.

"I concede," she breathed, collapsing onto the bench.

"A wise choice, my lady," said Felinor with a smile coming to sit beside her. "Get your breath and I will see you back to your room."

True to her word, Ellyria slept until it was time for dinner.

She and Lord Thranduil dined in a new chamber so close to the glade that grass and other plants crept into the far edge of the room. Several elves played music in an adjoining room so as not to be intrusive. The food continued to be excellent and the conversation entertaining; until Ellyria asked after the prince.

A shadow crossed briefly over the King's face and he took a sip of wine before speaking.

"Legolas seldom eats with me. He prefers the company of his captains so you need not worry that you are keeping me from him," replied the father quietly.

Ellyria frowned but felt that any further questions would not be welcome and changed the subject.

Afterwards, he took her to a far corner of his realm where the mountain split apart and revealed a window into the outside world. It was just dusk but still light enough for Ellyria to see the Lonely Mountain looming darkly in the distance.

"Have you ever seen the dragon that has taken up residence there?" asked Ellyria quietly, remembering the tales from when she was younger.

"No, it has not stirred from the mountain for many years now," replied Thranduil, staring at it.

"Perhaps it has died," she suggested though not really believing it.

"If it feeds well, such a beast can live on for hundreds of years without needing to feast again," Thranduil informed her.

"Does it make you uneasy knowing that such a creature is so close to your realm?" asked Ellyria, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It is well content with the horde in Erebor; there is nothing to compare here. And I have faced several serpents before," replied the King, pushing back memories he did not want to see.

Ellyria looked at him but said nothing.

"I would be glad of its demise; it is preventing me from entering the mountain," muttered Thranduil, gripping the stone rail on the balcony.

"Why should you wish to?" Ellyria asked.

"There is a necklace in that mountain I want retrieved."

The possessive, dangerous quality of his tone made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

She stole a glance at him; his straight posture, squared shoulders and the fixed way he stared at the mountain. It was not hard to imagine him standing on this balcony for a century, doing nothing but stare at the mountain and the beast within that was thwarting his will.

"Dragons do not live forever. In time, you will get it back," said Ellyria gently, turning away from the opening.

Thranduil made a noncommittal noise in his throat and turned to her.

"Come, sparring today must have taken much effort," said Thranduil leading her away from the opening and back toward her room.

"It was embarrassingly brief and yes I am tired from it still," she admitted, as they walked along the raised path back through his realm.

"Thank you again, my lord for a pleasant evening," Ellyria said, when they reached her door.

"The pleasure is mine."

She watched the King go before stepping into her room for the night.

The next evening, Melia came for her earlier than usual and took her to another new location for dinner. The elf led her into a long room lit by three large chandeliers of candles. Their table was at one end of the room and the two longer parallel walls were made of archways that led to other rooms. She got the impression that this room was usually used for dining but for a much larger group. The King was speaking with Feren when she and Melia entered but the other elf bowed and left shortly after their arrival.

"More sparring today?" asked Thranduil as he led her to her seat.

"No I thought I should rest today and went for a swim instead. I must thank you for letting me use it. We don't have anything like it in Eastwood," said Ellyria, sitting down.

"I am pleased you like it."

She took care not to speak of Legolas, the Lonely Mountain or dangers in the outer world that might draw him back into the brooding elf he had been yesterday. Ellyria finally discovered a cheese she did not like and had to force herself to swallow instead of spitting it out.

"Not to your liking?" asked Thranduil, watching her with a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Ellyria swallowed with a grimace and then took a large gulp of wine before wiping her mouth and replying, "No, what was that?"

"A goat cheese from the Andaman Hills. It is cured for nearly a month before it's made available for consumption," explained Thranduil, stilling smiling.

"It's horrible," she whispered.

Thranduil laughed and her heart leapt.

"Yes it is but there are some who like it," agreed the King, taking another sip of wine.

"Trolls?" suggested Ellyria, wiping her mouth again and taking a large bite of bread.

The Elvenking chuckled and resumed eating.

When they had nearly finished, Ellyria sat back in her chair and let out a contented sigh. The elven musicians on the other side of the arches began to play an old song, one from before Ellyria's time though she knew it well. Her eyes lit up in recognition and she turned her head to face it's source.

"You know this song?" asked Lord Thranduil, surprised.

"Yes, my father told me once it was my mother's favorite. She liked the story of Linhe and Grende of how he traveled to her realm every day with a rose to win her heart. It explains the why most of the dance is linear in motion," said Ellyria, putting down her cup.

Before the King could speak, she asked, "Do you know it, my lord?"

"The story or the dance?"

"The dance."

Thranduil set his cup down.

"It has been at least an age since I have danced any song, let alone this one."

"I'm sure your feet will remember it even if you do not," said Ellyria with a smile.

Thranduil looked at her curiously and she ignored the voice in her head urging her not to do this.

"Will you dance with me?" she asked, hoping she was not overstepping some hidden boundary.

His curiosity turned to genuine surprise.

"No one has ever asked me to dance before," he confessed, an odd sensation going through him.

"Well tonight I am. Will you," she prompted again gently, knowing that the first steps began soon.

He hesitated for the space of a breath and then rose to his feet.

"I do not like to deny my guests anything," he acquiesced, holding out his hand for hers.

Ellyria stood as well and took his hand, walking with him to the center of the rectangular space.

The beat of the music changed and Ellyria and Lord Thranduil bowed to each other. Much of first part of the song required that they walk in a circle around each other but maintain eye contact while doing so. He moved gracefully, as she had seen him do while fighting. At a cue from the music, they changed directions so that he followed her in the circle.

There was a long note and they stopped to face each other and bowed again.

Then livelier strains took over and while Thranduil remained motionless, she swept away from him. Her arms waved slowly as she spun to the music, a warm smile fixed on her face as her hair and dress flowed around her. She turned and danced her way back to where he was standing, watching her intently, his expression unreadable.

She drew close to him and paused so that he could reach out and rest his hand on her hip. He walked forward as she walked back and then they changed direction. He dropped his hand from her hip and raised the other above his head but kept it low enough that she could rest her palm on his as he moved forward again. Though he seemed engaged in the dance, she sensed that he was going through the motions without any real enjoyment in it.

Ellyria was grateful for the song dictating that she turn her back to him. She stretched out her right arm and looked to the right as the King moved behind her and stretched his arm out as well mirroring hers. As she moved forward with him following so closely behind she could hear his measured breathing, she worried for a moment that this was not a good idea. That perhaps this was dragging up a painful memory for him of the last time he had danced with his unmentioned wife.

He could have refused me, she thought to herself, turning back to face him. There was no pain in his eyes but no pleasure either. Nevertheless, she kept her smile on and moved with the enjoyment she always felt while dancing. Even if the King did not prefer to dance, he was good at it; his hand always waiting for hers when she reached out and though he moved close to her, he never stepped on her dress or the back of her boots.

When the song was nearing its end and the strains of the music climbed into a higher register, Thranduil spun her away from him and then reversed her back to him but drew her closer than he needed to. Her breath caught at his nearness, his blue grey eyes studying hers intensely. His hand on her lower back kept her near him, his other clasping hers gently as they danced in a wide circle.

She wanted to say something to him but all the words she could think of stuck in her throat as he looked down at her. Finally, the music died away and they stood back from one another, bowing respectfully as the song came to an end.

"Thank you for indulging me," she said, smiling warmly at him.

The King was about to speak when a quiet but authoritative voice from behind him interrupted.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord, Lady Ellyria," said Feren, bowing his head, "but there is a disturbance in the forest that requires your attention."

Feren did not look up when he finished speaking.

Thranduil turned to listen as he spoke.

"I will be with you in a moment, Feren," dismissed Lord Thranduil, nodding to his captain.

Ellyria frowned in concern as Feren nodded and turned on his heel toward the far doorway.

The King turned back to Lady Ellyria and inclined his head to her.

"I am glad that you asked. You know your way back?" asked Thranduil, his tone gentler than the one he had used with Feren a moment ago.

"Yes I know how to get back to my chamber. Please don't let me keep you," she offered, nodding to him.

Without another word, he turned and strode purposefully away from her. Ellyria stood still, thinking on the past few minutes and then gave herself a mental shake. This was not the place. She put her chin up and smiled, then turned and walked to the archways that the music had been coming from. She stepped through them to see three elves cleaning their instruments. They all stopped when they saw her and the one who had been sitting rose to his feet.

"Thank you. Your music was beautifully played," she said sincerely, smiling at all of them.

They all inclined their heads to her.

"We are pleased to hear it, my lady. Thank you," said the one female elf, her thick brown hair falling over one side of her face.

She nodded and then strode out of the hall and headed quickly back to her room to be alone with her thoughts.

Once inside, she rested her head against the door and took slow breaths. Ellyria closed her eyes to calm herself but she kept seeing the King's face and the intensity of his gaze.

"I should not have asked him to dance with me," she murmured to herself, going to her bed and taking off her boots.

She moved to her table with a nearby mirror and undid the braids in her long hair. She brushed it out and changed out of her dress and into a soft sleeping gown. The ghostly memory of his hand on her hip and back still lingered as she got into bed and blew out the lantern on her bedside table. Ellyria put her hands under the covers and held them against her heart that had slowed little since the end of the dance despite her efforts to reduce its thunder.

"This foolishness must end. There is no future here," she said to the night and closed her eyes in search of rest.

Lady Ellyria found herself in the King's balcony room, looking at the pool of stars. Lord Thranduil sat beside her; neither spoke.

After a few moments in companionable silence, she rose to leave and he followed suit. But when she reached out to thread her hand through the opening to pull the white door toward her, the King caught her hand in his, staying it. Ellyria had reached out with her right and turned to face him in surprise. Thranduil kept hold of it and took a small step toward her so that she was obliged to take one backwards. He gained more ground until her back pressed up against the door. As he had moved, he kept his eyes locked on hers as though searching for something in their depths. When she could no longer back away, he took one last step to her, his eyes falling to her lips. She was dimly aware of her difficulty drawing breath, her pounding heart and the flush to her cheeks. Though he overshadowed her completely, she did not feel threatened or cornered.

She tried to speak his name but her tongue would not obey. He still held her hand, gently enough that she could have pulled free easily if she wished but she did not move. He drew closer, inclining his head to meet hers.

"Ellyria."

She felt a gentle puff of warm air as he breathed her name against her lips. Her eyes slid closed of their own volition and she tilted her head up to meet his.

Ellyria snapped awaked with a gasp and bolted up in bed, trying to catch her breath. She looked wildly around her dimly lit room, certain that she was not alone. She wiped her hand roughly over her mouth and got up to wash her face. As she toweled off, she glanced out the opening in her room, still unsettled. All was quiet in the Elvenking's halls and dawn's first light was just beginning to filter into the cave. She peered over the edge of the towel while looking out, as though she had done something embarrassing and did not wish to be seen. Her cheeks were still warm to the touch.

Though the dream unnerved her, she sensed that something else was amiss but could not place her finger on it. She went back to bed and lay awake until late into the morning.

"My lady, are you unwell?" asked Pela as she came into her room.

"No I am not ill, Pela. Please don't worry," she said, rising and dressing.

"Would it be very rude of me to ask for solitude today? I spent a troubling night and wish to clear my head," asked Ellyria as Pela tied the last of her ribbons closed at the back of her dress.

"Not at all. I can give you something to help you sleep tonight if you feel you will need it," offered the healer, looking at her with concern.

"Thank you. I think I will," decided Ellyria, hoping whatever she was given would prevent her from dreaming again.

Pela nodded and left Ellyria alone with her churning thoughts.

She had barely walked several yards away from her chamber before a guard came rushing up to her.

"Lady Ellyria, there is a messenger for you. Please come with me to the King's throne," bid the tall, dark haired elf dressed in armor.

"Certainly. A messenger from Eastwood?" she asked, hurrying beside him.

"Yes, he arrived only a quarter of an hour ago."

"What has happened?" she asked, fear grabbing hold of her.

"He would not say, my lady," replied the guard ushering her to the raised platform that held the King's antlered throne.

Six guards were ranged along the edge of the space and Lord Thranduil was speaking in low tones to an Eastwood guard in the center of the platform.

"Lady Ellyria, my lord," announced the guard, allowing her to pass him.

Her heart skittered in her chest as she looked at the King so she turned all her attention to the silver armored guard before him. The guard turned when she was announced.

"Ardreth, what is it?" she asked, coming up to him and bowing to the King.

"There was an orc raid early this morning, my lady. Lord Morgaine suffered an injury. He asks that you return," recounted the guard.

An icy fist clenched her heart.

That was why she had snapped awake, not the dream. Someone she loved had been threatened.

She forced herself to speak,"yes, I will return home now."

In her periphery, she saw the King's expression change from concern to a frown.

He bowed to her and turned back to the King.

"My Lord Thranduil," he said bowing, "Thank you for your time."

The King inclined his head to the elf and the guard took his leave.

Ellyria turned to watch him walk away and then went up to the King.

"I must go. Thank you for your hospitality and kindness," she heard herself say and began to turn away.

"No," spoke Lord Thranduil, clasping her arm to prevent her from leaving.

She stopped and looked back at him in surprise.

"An orc pack was sighted in my woods last night. I have closed my roads until I know it is safe. Your messenger came here under escort," he explained, not letting go of her arm.

"You can open one road so that I can get to my father," protested Ellyria, searching his face for sympathy and finding none.

When he did not speak at once, she looked down at his hand on her arm and then back at him. There was nothing cruel in his gaze, only fear and concern.

"Or am I your prisoner?" she asked softly.

At the word 'prisoner,' Thranduil's expression changed and he reluctantly let her go.

"No, you are not," he relented but studied her anxiously as though he would never see her again.

"Gather your things and change into your armor. Someone will come for you and Captain Felinor. I will open the East road and _make_ it safe," vowed the King, inclining his head to her.

Ellyria breathed an inward sigh of relief and could only nod and thank him before taking to her heels and flying back to her chamber. She hastily changed out of her dress and pulled on leggings and a shirt. Ellyria had finished putting on her boots and was slipping on her breastplate when there was a knock on her door.

"Come!" she called anxiously.

Felinor in full armor burst into the room.

"I came as soon as I heard," he began, striding over to her and helping her clasp the plate closed.

"What have I been doing here? If something happens to him, I will never forgive myself for lingering away from home when there was no cause to," Ellyria fretted, trying to pull on a bracer.

"Ellyria. It will be well. Stay calm," counseled her friend, pushing the bracer over her wrist and snipping it shut.

Ellyria nodded and kept her lips tightly closed as he helped her with her other bracer. She picked up her helmet and started for the door.

"What of your things?" he asked behind her.

"Leave them, they are not important!"

She pulled open her door and stepped outside, Felinor close on her heels.

"My lady, Captain Felinor, this way," called one of the King's guards, motioning for them to follow him.

"Have the others left already?" asked Ellyria as they walked.

"All the other guards from Eastwood returned a two weeks ago," said Felinor quietly.

Ellyria nodded and kept walking, a thousand grim thoughts crowding into her mind, jostling for her attention.

Their journey through the King's halls seemed to stretch on until finally they reached a set of tall metal doors carved into the stone wall. They stood open and Ellyria could see their horses and Mirkwood soldiers outside. Inside the gates, stood the King speaking with Feren who was also dressed in armor.

The guard led them up to the King and departed with a quick bow.

"My captain and his guard will escort you to the edge of your woods, my lady," said the King, nodding to Feren who inclined his head to Ellyria and Felinor.

"Thank you, Captain," replied Ellyria.

Felinor placed his hand on his chest and bowed to the King before walking out the door with Feren at his side, leaving Ellyria and the King alone.

She met his worried eyes and tried to give voice to all the things she wished to say to him but all that came out was, "I am in your debt, my lord and Master Viridian and Pela's. Will you thank them for me?"

"You owe me nothing, my lady. I will pass your words along," replied the King.

"I pray we may meet again someday under less dangerous circumstances." offered Ellyria, placing her hand on her chest and bowing to him.

Thranduil opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again silently.

"Go, your father is waiting," said Lord Thranduil instead, placing his hand on his chest and bowing to her.

She met his eyes one last time before striding to her impatient horse. Once outside, she realized the East Road was lined with dozens of Mirkwood guards, standing at attention, facing out into the forest. Ellyria swung up onto her horse, glanced at Felinor and Feren who were already on theirs and nodded to them.

"Let us be gone," said Ellyria, turning her horse to face the path and digging her heels in.


	8. A Reunion

A Reunion

Feren took the lead, his white horse shooting down the path like an arrow with Ellyria and Felinor close behind him. The trees and golden guards flashed past them as they thundered along the path. At their speed, it was not long before they burst through the trees and headed out onto a flat, grassy plain that led to Eastwood. Ellyria grew conscious of a noise behind her and she turned in her seat to look.

A company of at least fifty Woodland guards had spread out and was following in their wake. A pang of gratitude swept through Ellyria and she turned back with tears in her eyes. They continued to ride at a full gallop for several hours before the rise of the hill Eastwood rested on became visible. The familiar white trees in the distance lifted her spirits and she urged her horse on though the animal was starting to tire. A glossy sheen was spreading along her coat.

She, Feren and Felinor all slowed when they began to near the high wooden gate at the entrance to her realm that served as the only break in the stone wall that encircled Eastwood protectively. Ellyria could see several guards on the battlements pointing at them and hurrying to open the gate.

Ellyria, Feren and Felinor slowed their horses to a canter as they drew up to the now open gates.

"Thank you for the escort, Captain. Please relay my gratitude to your King once more for all that he has done for those of Eastwood in his care," said Ellyria, to Feren as they stopped their horses before the gates.

"I will, my lady. And thank you for your service to Lord Thranduil," replied Feren, touching his chest and inclining his head to her.

Ellyria smiled at him.

"Be safe and well," said Feren in elvish in to Felinor, inclining his head to him.

Felinor returned the farewell and the gesture, his eyes never leaving the other captain's face.

Ellyria turned her horse to the gate and rode swiftly up the main road to her father's house at the apex of the hill.

Eastwood was not a grand realm like Lothlorien, nor as well guarded as Mirkwood but it was elegant in its own right. The homes of her people were made of a pale stone and roofed in grey slate. Colorful ribbons flapped in the breeze above each house, indicating the tribal heritage of the occupant. Large wooden arches with elvish carvings loomed over the main street every few hundred yards. The main hall of Lord Morgaine rose up before her, its bluish tinged roof contrasting with the pale stone edifice below. Through an iron gate made of twisted swirls surrounding a rising sun, she went, with Felinor always close behind her.

Several guards ran up to her as she stopped her horse just before the entrance to the hall.

She dismounted and was about to approach the nearest guard for the whereabouts of her father when she saw her aunt appear in the doorway of the hall.

Ellyria smiled at strode up to her.

"Drina, where is my father?" she asked, a lump in her throat threatening to choke her.

"He is within, Ellyria. I will take you to him. I am pleased you are well again," said the tall, female elf, her brown eyes glowing with warmth.

Ellyria looked back at Felinor and he nodded to her, leading her horse around to the stables on the side of the hall.

"Does he live?" she demanded as they passed the threshold.

Her aunt tried to smile reassuringly at Ellyria but the tears in her eyes betrayed her.

"Yes, he lives still."

"How did this happen?" Ellyria wanted to know as they turned the corner and headed down a long white hallway with paintings and tapestries fluttering in their wake.

"A large campfire was spotted outside our walls before dawn surrounded by orcs. The alarm was sounded and your father rode out with a company of soldiers to dispatch them. You know what he's like," she said softly, glancing at Ellyria.

"He loves to fight," sighed Ellyria, her chest twisting.

"When our soldiers had left the gate, many more orcs appeared. They must have been hiding under long grasses; they were not visible to us until it was too late. Your father's company was nearly overwhelmed before more reinforcements rode out. He was wounded in the battle and brought inside when it was done," recounted Drina, her brown hair falling close to her face as she spoke, her head inclined to the ground.

She thought of the King and what his fate would have been had she and her men not arrived when they had. Ellyria shook her head once, ashamed that she was thinking of anyone other than her father.

The two women approached the doors to Lord Morgaine's chamber at the end of the hall. Outside it, in a worried knot, stood several of her father's councilors and her cousin, Ryndion. They all looked up as Ellyria and her aunt drew near them.

"My lady Ellyria, it is good to see you well and healed," said Hurenil, inclining his head to her, the others echoing his sentiments. Ryndion walked up to her and clasped her hand in his.

"Ellyria, be strong," said her cousin, quietly.

"May I see him?" she asked the elves, unsure whose permission she needed to see her father.

Hurenil nodded and stepped up to the door, tapping twice softly.

"Your uncle is with him now. I will tell them you have returned," he said before opening the door slightly and speaking to those within.

After a pause, he turned to her and opened the door for her.

She let go of her cousin's hand, took a breath and walked into her father's chamber. It was just as she always remembered it; the large wooden wardrobe in the corner, the stand for his armor, a small table and mirror that her mother had used, and a large woodland mural of Eastwood. The only thing amiss was her father, lying in the large wooden bed, ashen pale with his brother, her uncle Tarquin, kneeling by the bed at his side. Their Master healer, Celdnae set down two vials on her father's bedside table and nodded apologetically to Ellyria when she walked in.

"Ellyria!" breathed her uncle, rising and meeting her as she approached the bed, unable to take her eyes from her father. Her uncle drew her into an embrace and her hands gripped the fabric of his tunic.

"Tarquin, I'm so sorry I wasn't here," she apologized drawing back to look at him, tears in her eyes.

He waved her concern away and motioned to the bed.

"He has been asking for you for the last hour," Tarquin said, pressing her shoulder as she passed him to kneel at her father's side. Her uncle and Celdnae silently left the room, closing the door behind them as they left.

"Father," whispered Ellyria, reaching out to take his hand.

Lord Morgaine's emerald green eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice and he turned his head to face her, his black hair in a tangle on the pillow.

"Ellyria, you are well?" asked her father in a voice so weak she had to lean forward to hear him.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Father, what can I do? Let me see your wounds, maybe…" began the heart sick daughter, rising and clasping the rumpled blanket that covered him.

Lord Morgaine gripped her wrist suddenly, his eyes alert and commanding.

"Ellyria, all our healers together could not do enough; one fainted away trying to save me so much of his life did he lend. If you try as well, I will send you from this room and you will not see me again in this life," forbade her father, his voice regaining its deep resonance.

"I cannot sit by and do nothing," begged Ellyria clasping his hand in both of hers, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"You have been a good daughter; your mother and I are very proud of you. I know she would be," said Morgaine, his voice fading a little.

"No I haven't. I've been disobedient and absent and stubborn," Ellyria gasped out, her vision blurring.

"You have been brave, selfless and independent. Those were the lessons I wanted you to learn," countered her father with a smile.

Ellyria buried her face in the bedding near her father's arm and wept.

"Do not be sad for me. I will be with your mother," he tried again but she only cried harder, her shoulders shaking.

"Ellyria, please."

She picked her head up and hastily wiped away her tears.

"I love you but you must let me go."

Ellyria shook her head, rebelling against the idea.

"Come closer, daughter. I would speak to you," beckoned Lord Morgaine, his voice trailing off into a whisper.

Ellyria got up again and leaned carefully over him so he could speak in her ear.

Outside the room, Tarquin, Drina and Ryndion stood facing each other, each lost in their grief but trying to be strong for the others. The councillors were silent and Master Celdnae stood facing the door, his head bowed.

A wild scream broke through the heavy silence and the Master healer pushed open the door. All those without crowded just inside the threshold save for the Master who went immediately to Lord Morgaine's side and felt the side of his throat. Ellyria lay across his chest sobbing wretchedly into the blanket. Master Celdnae shook his head solemnly and closed Lord Morgaine's eyes for the last time.

Drina turned away and cried softly into Ryndion's shoulder as he tried to comfort her. Tarquin went to Ellyria and gently pulled her up off of her father and held her while she wept, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek as he looked at his brother. The councillors bowed their heads and touched their chests in respect and then silently left the room. Celdnae gently removed the silver circlet from Lord Morgaine's brow and walked around the bed to offer it to Ellyria.

"Ellyria," said her uncle quietly, turning her to face Celdnae.

She wiped her eyes and looked at their healer and then what he was holding in his hands.

She let out an anguished sound, covered her mouth and ran from the room.

Drina stopped crying and composed herself enough to follow her niece with Ryndion in tow.

"I will place it on his seat, Celdnae, until she is ready to take it up," said Tarquin heavily.

The healer placed it in his hands and went to summon his apprentices so that they could prepare his body for burial.

The next day was a blur for Ellyria. Arrangements were made, letters and messengers were sent to the nearby elven realms to give them the chance to offer their respects. Ellyria nodded when she needed to and ate when she was asked to. When she was alone, she wept; when she was in company, she forced herself to listen, if only to hear something other than the howling pain in her heart.

Her uncle dissuaded the Council from bringing up the question of succession to her until after her father had been buried and all those who had journeyed to Eastwood had gone.

"It is unusual for Eastwood to not have a leader," pressed Hurenil, his cool grey eyes matching the silvery robe he always wore to signify his tribe.

"I will do whatever is needed in the intervening time. Bring your concerns to me; do not trouble her," requested Tarquin firmly, his tone brooking no further disagreement from Hurenil or the others.

At dinner, they ate in the main dining hall. Lord Morgaine's chair in the center remained empty. Ellyria sat off to its right and her uncle on the left. She saw Felinor look up at her a few times from his table of captains. His handsome face was filled with concern for her.

At night, Ellyria stood on her balcony, staring up at the moon and stars and listening to the rushing water from the falls near her chamber. She wondered, not for the first time, if it was possible to die from a broken heart.

In the Elvenking's hall, Lord Thranduil pushed back his plate after picking at his food and refilled his wine instead. He glanced at the letter spread before him, the invitation to Lord Morgaine's funeral, and then stared at the empty chair opposite him.

"My lord, can I serve you something else?" asked an elf, quietly at his side.

"No, there is nothing wrong the food. I have no appetite tonight it seems. Will you find Pela Yrion and ask her to come to my council room?" requested the King, rising.

"At once, my lord," said the elf, bowing and striding away.

Thranduil picked up the letter and walked pensively to the council chamber. The round table with thirteen chairs was empty, as he knew it would be. He took a seat and waited for Pela to arrive.

She hurried in a quarter of an hour later.

"My lord, you wished to see me?" asked Pela, her eyes full of concern.

"Yes, Pela. Have all of Lady Ellyria's belongings been sent back to Eastwood?"

"There were sent this morning, my lord, as soon as the roads were opened," she replied at once, wondering if she had done something wrong.

He nodded and was silent for a time.

Pela waited for him to speak, standing still as stone in expectation.

"You grew to know her, Lady Ellyria, while she was in your care?" asked the King, looking up at Pela.

"Yes, my lord, well enough," answered Pela, concern shifting to curiosity.

"What did she speak to you of, while she was here?" inquired Thranduil, rising and beginning to walk around the table, his hands clasped behind him.

"She wished to know about our realm, our tribes, and…" Pela paused, unsure if this was a betrayal of trust.

Thranduil stopped and looked at the elf, an eyebrow raised.

"And?" he prompted.

Pela bowed her head.

"She asked about you once or twice," Pela replied, not meeting his gaze.

Thranduil resumed his perambulation around the table.

"You do not need to tell me anything she told in confidence, Pela. Her secrets are her own," clarified the King.

Pela nodded, relieved.

"We spoke of Eastwood and the other realms she had visited. She spoke very highly of the Woodland realm in comparison with other lands," related Pela, unsure of everything he wished to hear.

"Thank you, Pela. I'll trouble you no further," said the King, dismissing her.

Pela bowed and left the room.

He stared at the center of the table for over an hour, not seeing it, his sharp eyes unfocused, lost in his thoughts.

Two guards walking by the room brought him out of his reverie and he went off in search of his chamber and sleep.

"Lord Elrond and King Thranduil will be joining us tomorrow. Mithrandir was in Rivendell at the time our invitation arrived and he has begged a place among us as well. I have not heard from Lothlorien or Black Forest," Tarquin informed Lady Ellyria the next day.

They were walking along the river that flowed down the eastern edge of their land.

"Lothlorien has never noticed us before. I do not expect to hear from them. And Lord Erduin has not left Black Forest for a thousand years; I do not think he will ride out for my father," said Lady Ellyria, a fond smile breaking through the persistent gloom on her face.

"Do we have enough food and wine to feed a large party for several days?" asked Ellyria absently, not really interested in the answer but knowing it was a question she had a duty to ask.

"Yes, we will not want for many years. Our lands and trade have thrived; we have been blessed with good fortune," her uncle assured her.

"Until now," said Ellyria bitterly, pausing at the edge of the stream.

Down the center of the river was a series of flat, black rocks covered in a substance that no one in Eastwood could identify but that burned ceaselessly once lit. There were ten rocks in total with this quality and the first three blazed away, having been lit many centuries past. The lighting of a new rock signified the passing of the Lord of Eastwood in their culture.

Ellyria stood staring at the rock she knew she would have to light for her father in two days' time. Her uncle noticed and came to stand beside her.

"I'm sorry if I have been unhelpful. I will do better, be stronger," vowed Ellyria, picking her head up though her eyes were wet with tears.

"You have done enough. The next few days will hard; it will be your duty to see to the guests and make sure they are provided for. The rooms are being prepared now. Depending on how many guards Lord Elrond and Lord Thranduil bring, we may need to house some of them amongst our people."

Ellyria nodded and forced herself to look away from the rock.

"I will retire early today so that I may do my duty tomorrow," said Ellyria, meeting her uncle's gaze.

"Celdnae could bring you a sleeping draft. I do not think you slept last night," suggested Tarquin, looking worriedly at her.

"Did you?" she whispered back.

Tarquin lowered his eyes and shook his head.

"I miss him so much already," Ellyria said, her voice breaking on the last word.

She wrapped her arms protectively around herself and turned to go back inside, leaving her uncle looking after her, tears in his eyes as well.

The next day dawned and Ellyria watched it rise from her bed where she had lain sleepless again another night.

When she heard others stirring and the birds starting up their usual morning chorus, she rose and began to dress. An elegant but simple black gown of a lightweight fabric with a few swirls of silver beading about the waist and skirt had been made for her and it was this dress she chose for the day. She pulled on her soft leather boots and then sat down at her table before a large mirror.

The tired elf with dark circles under her eyes looked unfamiliar to Ellyria. She felt her throat starting to constrict and swallowed it back. Not today. She would not give in to her grief today. The orphaned daughter picked up her brush and began to comb out her long brown hair, the repetition comforting her a little.

Rhea, an energetic elf with bright blonde hair and flashing green eyes came into her room.

"Good morning, my lady. Can I help you with your hair?" Rhea asked, the quietness in her voice making Ellyria look up in surprise.

"Rhea, yes, please," requested Ellyria, handing her brush to the more skilled elf. Her blonde hair already braided and pulled back.

"Has anyone arrived yet, Rhea? It is early but I do not wish to be unprepared," asked Ellyria, as the elf's gentle fingers threaded their way through her brown hair.

"No I should think around noon, we may start to expect them. Their approach will be easy to see," soothed Rhea, finishing one braid and starting on the other side.

When Rhea was done, Ellyria rose to leave but the other elf stopped her with a fierce embrace. Ellyria took comfort in Rhea's warmth and closeness but a sudden wetness in her eyes, made her let go sooner than she wanted to.

"Thank you, Rhea," she whispered with a sad smile, before turning to go.

She ate a hurried breakfast, barely tasting the food, and then headed to the iron gate at the entrance to her father's house. The iron suns has been flung wide so that four horses across could walked through without difficulty. Ellyria paused at the opening, her breath catching in her throat and tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

All the homes along the main road had replaced their individual banner colors with purple and silver; her family's colors. Even the sweeping arches were draped with a deep purple fabric that fluttered in the breeze. Many elves were out already, carrying on the business of the day. Those that saw her standing by the gate, touched their chests and inclined their heads in respect. Ellyria returned the gestures before turning back and walking halfway to the entrance to the main hall inside the gate. And there she composed herself and waited. Her uncle, aunt and cousin joined her before long, each clasping hands with her in turn. Her uncle and cousin glanced at her hair expecting to see her father's circlet on her brow but it remained on his chair in the hall and Ellyria pretended not to notice that they had looked. Her aunt was also dressed in black although her uncle and cousin were in a dark grey with black accents on the sleeves and chest of their robes. Other elves began to gather inside the gate as well, ready to bring horses to stables and lead the incoming guests and guards to their chambers.

"Were you able to sleep last night, Ellyria?" her uncle asked her, standing by her side.

"A little more than the night before, yes," said the tired elf, wishing she could go back to her bed now and never leave it again.

"And you?" she asked of Tarquin.

"Yes, some," he admitted, looking at Drina who smiled at him sadly.

"Ah, Lord Thranduil is arriving," observed her uncle looking over her head down the main road.

Ellyria turned and saw an elf with white hair astride a very large elk leading a small retinue of guards coming slowly toward them. Ellyria smiled for the first time in two days out of genuine happiness rather than forcing it for the sake of others.

"You were in his realm longer than expected Ellyria unless your wounds were worse than you or the King let on," said Tarquin, watching Lord Thranduil approach.

"I could have ridden home a week ago without too much discomfort if that is what you are asking but I… wished to stay. I was enjoying myself there. Lord Thranduil was a generous host," Ellyria related quietly. "I did not wish to seem ungrateful that he saved my life."

"From the way he tells it, you also saved his," replied Tarquin as Lord Thranduil passed through the iron gate, his elk's antler barely clearing the upper edges.

"He was being kind," said Ellyria, her smile warming as she met the King's gaze.

He dismounted in a smooth movement, his black robe flashed with silver detailing in the sunlight, the insides of his wide sleeves a deep crimson. He wore a silver crown that looked like woven branches and held a white, oval stone at the center of his forehead.

"My lord Thranduil, thank you for coming," said Lady Ellyria, bowing to him, her uncle, aunt and cousin following suit beside her.

"Would that it were under happier circumstances. You have my deepest sympathy. If there is anything I can do, you have but to ask," said the King, more to her than her kin.

"Thank you," said Ellyria, studying his face as though she had not seen him for many years.

The pause lasted slightly longer than it should have before Ellyria turned and introduced him to her family. He recognized Tarquin and inclined his head to him, touching his chest.

"I am pleased to see you well though I am sorry for your pain," said Thranduil.

"Talos will see you to your room and provide you with anything you require while you stay with us," said Ellyria, introducing him to a tall, black haired elf with startling blue eyes who bowed before them both.

"Until dinner," murmured Ellyria as the King walked away from her, following Talos.

She smiled at Feren who followed close behind his leader, he inclined his head to her as he passed. Several other guards followed the King inside while the remaining ones were led off to the barracks. One of the Woodland elves tended to Thranduil's elk, who tossed his head impetuously before allowing himself to be led off.

"I had forgotten the gravity with which the King carries himself," murmured Tarquin beside her, watching the King stride into the hall.

"He is an imposing figure," agreed Ellyria.

"He seemed pleased to see you," offered Drina, looking over at her niece.

"No more than any of you I'm sure," deflected Ellyria looking back down the main road but the dust was settling.

"We are only expecting Lord Elrond and Mithrandir yet, is that still correct?" asked Ellyria of her uncle. "I can barely remember the last time I saw either of them."

"Yes, he should be here within the hour," answered Tarquin, glancing up at the sun.

Yet it was several hours before their party was spotted coming across the plain.

Ellyria straightened and smoothed down the front of her dress, more for something to do with her hands than any disarray the dress was in.

Lord Elrond and Mithrandir were at the head of at least twenty odd elves, all on horseback.

The wizard was in his customary grey robe and pointed hat and the elven lord wore a simple cloak and robe of deep blue with no pattern. The silver diadem on his forehead the only true finery about him. He was the antithesis of Lord Thranduil in terms of dress though he carried himself in much the same way.

""My Lord Elrond, Mithrandir; thank you for coming. You are most welcome," said Ellyria, when their horses has drawn up near them.

"Lady Ellyria, I am sorry for your loss. You have the support of Rivendell should you ever have need of it," offered the brown haired elf, bowing to her.

"Thank you," she whispered, meeting his kind eyes.

"And may I echo Lord Elrond's sentiments. Your father was a good man; his time should not have come so soon," said Gandalf, clasping her small hands in his large, rough ones.

Ellyria blinked, nodded and smiled, afraid to trust her voice lest it betray her emotion.

Elrond and Gandalf greeted her family and were also escorted to their respective rooms. When all the elves and horses had been led away, Ellyria turned to Tarquin.

"I do not think anyone else is coming today. Please have one of ours keep a watch for any other newcomers," said Ellyria, trying to stifle a yawn.

"It will be done," promised her uncle, clasping her shoulder.

"Come, you should eat something and then lie down to rest," suggested her Aunt Drina, leading her toward the hall. Ellyria went with her obediently, hoping rest would come to her for at least a short while before she needed to face everyone at dinner.


	9. A Farewell

A Farewell

Ellyria was able to rest more easily than she had hoped for and rose to dress for dinner feeling better than she had for the last two days. She kept the same black dress on she had worn earlier and Rhea helped fix her hair that had come undone while she slept. Ellyria glanced at herself in the mirror before leaving and stood up straighter, setting her shoulders back and composing her face.

She met her family just outside the rear entrance of the main feasting hall, the sounds from within indicating that many of the guests had already arrived.

"You looked rested," observed her cousin, coming to stand with her.

"Yes, I was able to sleep a little and am much the better for it, thank you. How are you faring?" asked Ellyria, looking at the light circles under her cousin's eyes and his slightly rumpled hair.

"Well enough. I loved your father too but I have far less pain to bear than you," said Ryndion quietly, nodding to her.

"We are all hurting," corrected Tarquin, moving to Ellyria's side.

"Come, shall we go in?" asked Drina, as an elf opened the door for them.

Ellyria walked inside first and took up her customary chair to the right of her father's vacant one. The room quieted when she entered and everyone rose from their chairs. Ellyria smiled and kept her head held high even though she dearly wished to be anything but the center of attention. There was a raised table off to the left of the head table where Lord Thranduil, Lord Elrond and Mithrandir had been seated. They all looked to her as she stood next to her chair. The rest of the hall was filled with families from the various tribes within Eastwood as well as the captains of each of guards of the realms represented. Felinor, Feren and Lindir had taken seats together. When her family had moved to their chairs, Ellyria smiled and addressed the assembly.

"Thank you for gathering here to honor my father, Lord Morgaine. To those who have traveled far," Ellyria glanced over at Lord Elrond and Mithrandir, "or merely up Eastwood's main road, blah blah something good yes sit!

Ellyria took her seat and with it, the rest of the hall was seated as well. Off in the far right corner, a fews elves began to play soft music and serving platters were passed around. Wine was served and Ellyria focused on eating, though she did not feel very hungry.

She spoke with her uncle a little during dinner and then rose to make the rounds of greeting those who had assembled. Word had spread of what had occurred in the Woodland realm the preceding month and many asked after her health. She deferred that she was well and there was nothing to worry about. She did not fail to notice the furtive glances at her unadorned brow but none spoke of the question of succession to her. Ellyria thanked Celdnae again for all the he had done to try to save her father.

She paused near Felinor, Feren and Lindir who seemed to be enjoying themselves despite the occasion but were dutifully solemn and heartfelt in their conversation with her.

And then she was before the two elf lords and wizard, all of whom made to rise as she approached their table.

"Please, please you need not rise," she protested, raising a hand and smiling at them.

After a consensus was reached through peripheral glances, they all resumed their chairs.

"Thranduil was just telling us of his own recent skirmish with a band of orcs and how your bravery saved his life," said Lord Elrond kindly.

Ellyria met the King's eyes as she smiled.

"And did he tell you I kicked him to get him out of the way of the ax?" asked Ellyria, holding his gaze.

"The bruise was a small price to pay to continue to draw breath," remarked Thranduil, taking a sip of wine.

Lord Elrond chuckled and then grew serious once more.

"Mithrandir has also seen several bands of orcs on his way to Rivendell not two moons past."

"Far too many for my liking," grumbled the wizard. "Something must be done."

"Since we are gathered here, my lady, I was hoping to hold a council to discuss the situation," suggested Elrond, watching her face.

Ellyria swallowed.

"Can it wait until after tomorrow night?" she asked softly, meeting his brown eyes.

"Of course it can. I would not have it overshadow why we are truly here," replied Lord Elrond gently.

Mithrandir opened his mouth but a look from both the elf lords silenced him.

"Thank you. I agree with you though, something is wrong," Ellyria murmured, her face falling.

She inclined her head to them and they returned the gesture in kind. Ellyria moved away from their table and slipped out onto a small balcony off the main hall for a breath of air. The sun was just setting, its orange glow setting the leaves in their white trees glowing. The elf looked out over her home and did not feel safe. Her eyes slid to the three burning rocks in the stream far off to her left and had to remind herself to breathe. She gripped the iron rail before her and took a few steadying breaths. Then she turned, fixed a smile on her face and re entered the hall, moving up to speak with her family.

Her cousin was saying something but her aunt cut him off as she approached.

"I think I am going to retire early tonight. I feel very tired all of sudden," she said.

"You have done well tonight Ellyria. Please, go and rest. Tomorrow will be another long day," urged her uncle pressing her hands and smiling.

"Shall I come with you?" asked her aunt, rising also.

"No, please. You need not trouble yourself. Stay, aunt," requested Ellyria, clasping the older elf's hands.

She nodded, her eyes filled with concern.

Ellyria bid her cousin good night as well and then strode from the hall without another backward look nor did she draw an easy breath until she was firmly on the other side of her door.

The next morning Lord Thranduil met Lord Elrond after breakfast.

"It is good to see you, Thranduil. Many years it has been since we've shared company," observed Lord Elrond, as they walked slowly to a balcony on the side of the main hall.

"And you, Elrond," said the Elvenking, looking out on Eastwood.

"Do you truly think that something is amiss in our lands?" asked Elrond.

"We have never been completely safe from the hateful malice that still inhabits this land. You are becoming complacent in your trust of this peace you think we are enjoying," said Thranduil.

"You sound like Gandalf," murmured Elrond.

"Perhaps this time, the wizard is not wrong," Thranduil observed, looking at the other elf.

"It is harder for you to see, Elrond, as you do not live near a land still under the spell of evil. We have not destroyed it as you seem to think. It is merely waiting."

Elrond stared pensively at the trees waving gently in the morning air.

"Lady Ellyria made an impression on you while she convalesced in your realm?" asked Elrond, hoping to steer the conversation away from such a dark subject.

Thranduil looked sideways at the other elf.

"What do you mean?" he asked, one dark eyebrow raised.

"Merely that your gaze did not leave her at dinner last night," observed Lord Elrond, meeting his companion's sardonic countenance.

"She is the reason we have gathered here. To pay our respects to her father and see her take up his seat," responded the King, dismissively.

"She did not take his seat last night nor is she wearing his circlet," countered Elrond.

"Perhaps she is waiting until he has been formally buried."

Elrond made a noncommittal noise.

The two ancient elves were silent for a time until Thranduil felt that he needed to say something to dispel Elrond's apparent interest in his feelings, whatever they were toward Lady Ellyria. He was about to speak when a shadow flashed overhead and both elves glanced up in surprise.

A great black hawk was circling the house above them.

"Is that not one of Lord Erduin's birds? I had not realized they could grow to such a size," asked Lord Elrond, looking up at the blot in the sky.

"Nor I," replied Thranduil watching it closely.

The bird circled the house a few more times and then dove at the ground at a remarkable speed. Lord Elrond and Lord Thranduil moved to the edge of the balcony and looked down at the main courtyard at the entrance to the hall. Both elves frowned in concern at Lady Ellyria who was smiling up at the bird that was heading straight for her.

Thranduil made an anxious movement but Elrond put a hand on his arm to stay him.

"She seems to know the creature," he said, watching her rather than the diving hawk.

Several feet above Ellyria's head, the bird re extended his wings to slow himself down and landed gracefully on the ground beside her. The wind from his wings blowing back her skirts and ruffling her brown hair. From their vantage point, they could see that the bird stood almost shoulder height to Ellyria. It clicked its beak at her and let out a shriek, then was silent.

Ellyria waited a moment then very slowly reached out to touch the bird's chest feathers. When it did not move, she bent down and retrieved something from its leg. When she stood again, she held a piece of paper in her hand. Ellyria took a step back, inclined her head to the bird as though it had done her a service and then flung out her left hand toward the sky.

The bird shrieked again and in a flurry of feathers, shot up into the sky and was lost behind the hall. Ellyria watched it go and then looked down at the letter. She paused and then strode off in the direction of the stream on the left side of the hall.

"We will not have the pleasure of Lord Erduin's company then," said Elrond.

"If you can call it that," retorted Thranduil drily. "How is she familiar with his birds?"

"Perhaps you should ask her," nudged Elrond, glancing at his friend with a half smile.

Thranduil gave Elrond a look and then bid him good morning.

Lord Elrond smiled at Thranduil's haughty back and then turned to look back out over Eastwood once again.

Down by the river, Ellyria sat reading the message Lord Erduin had sent her. It was warm and sympathetic, full of sentiment she had not expected from him. Despite his kind words, they were of regret that he would not be able to pay his respects in person. Ellyria read the letter a few more times and then watched the water flow downstream for a time, glad of the peace and quiet.

It was short lived.

Felinor approached her tentatively after half an hour.

"Good morning, Ellyria. Am I disturbing you?" asked her captain, waiting for her to acknowledge him before coming closer.

Ellyria hastily wiped her eyes and looked up at her friend.

"No, you are not disturbing me. Please sit, if you wish," she offered, gesturing to the rock opposite hers along the bank

Felinor inclined his head and perched on the rock near hers.

"You had a letter?" he asked, glancing at the paper in her hand.

"Yes. It's from Lord Erduin, sending his sympathy and regrets that he will not be able to attend tonight's ceremony," replied Ellyria, folding up the letter and secreting it in her dress.

"You still write to him, don't you? It's been at least four centuries since you stayed at Ravenhill with him," remarked Felinor.

"Five centuries but yes, I do still write to him. I enjoyed his company while I was there. He taught me a great deal about dual wielding weapons," Ellyria said, looking back at the water.

"You were with him for several years. I remember your father starting to worry that you would never return home," Felinor reminisced.

Ellyria smiled sadly.

"I could never have stayed there forever. It was always a little too dark for my taste; too much fire. There is a reason it is called the Black Forest," said Ellyria.

She and Felinor were silent.

"If you need anything tonight, a look will bring me to your side," he murmured quietly.

Ellyria smiled.

"I know. This is something I must do; I must bear it as best I can. But thank you."

Ellyria looked at him again and he smiled as well.

"I will leave you in peace, then," said Felinor rising.

Ellyria nodded at him and watched him stride away from her. An hour later, she rose and returned to her room to prepare herself for the coming evening.

The elves of Eastwood began to gather near the river and on all the lands surrounding it before dusk. There was a lower balcony with no rail that angled directly down the center of the stream so that the burning rocks were aligned from that vantage point. A small burning brazier had been set on the ground as well as a bow stand and one arrow with Ellyria's bow resting in it. Lord Elrond took up a place on the balcony and was soon joined by Lord Thranduil and then Gandalf. Tarquin, Drina and Ryndion joined them as well, each murmuring greetings.

After a moment, the bells in Eastwood tolled three times.

Then Lady Ellyria walked out onto the balcony. She wore a dress of deep purple, her waist wrapped in a band of silver; her tribe's colors. Her golden hair had been braided around the crown of her head but her hair bore no other ornamentation. She drew the bow out of its holder and picked up the arrow, lighting it in the flames beside her from the brazier.

Ellyria looked out at the river with the lighted rocks of her forebearers, and the small sea of elves now looking to her. She took a deep breath and fitted the arrow to her bow.

Before drawing it back, she spoke a soft prayer in elvish and said goodbye to her father one last time. When tears started to prick the corners of her eyes, she drew the arrow back, let out a long breath and released it into the night. It arced gracefully through the air and glanced off the rock that was to be her father's memorial. It flashed to life instantly, the line of glowing orbs in the water extending out farther and the line of Ellyria's family cut short by one.

Behind her, her aunt and uncle wiped tears from their eyes, Ryndion stared numbly. The two elf lords looked on gravely and the wizard paused in his worrying for Middle earth and was concerned instead for the pain of one elf maiden.

Ellyria replaced her bow and went out to the edge of the balcony. She looked down at all the elves gathered below and bowed down to them with her hand on her chest. They returned the gesture respectfully. She turned back to face her family and guests and walked up to her uncle.

She pressed his hands in hers, meeting his eyes and saying nothing for a moment.

Though her eyes were wet, she managed a smile.

"Come, will you walk me in to dinner?" asked the niece of her uncle.

He smile at her and nodded, offering her his arm. Her aunt and cousin followed behind them and the elf lords and wizard were the last off the balcony.

Dinner was a solemn affair until Ellyria stood up, unable to bear the quiet murmurings and long looks at her father's continuing empty seat at the table.

"Tonight we are honoring Lord Morgaine's life and I think he would be shocked at the silence of his hall that has always been filled with laughter, good cheer and music. Let us remember him as he would have wanted," said Ellyria, raising her goblet of wine.

The elvish salute to good health and long life was repeated by all and with a look from Ellyria, a few elves took up their silent instruments and brought them to life. The mood lightened and conversation resumed at a normal volume.

Ellyria resumed her seat and met the grey eyes of Lord Thranduil. He raised his goblet to her subtly before taking a drink. She made herself eat some of the food set before her and took more wine than usual. Ellyria noticed Felinor glance at her a few times and then resume his conversation with Feren and Lindir.

When she thought the attention of most everyone in the room was engaged elsewhere, she rose quietly and went to bid her family goodnight. Ellyria slipped out the back door and fled to her room. She closed the door behind her, threw herself on her bed and wept until no more tears would come. She did not move again until the soft rays of dawn crept timidly into her room as a reminder that life was continuing on however much she wished it would stop.

She rose stiffly and stretched her back. Ellyria opened the door to Rhea's room adjoining hers and called to her.

"My lady?" came the quick reply as Rhea stepped out to greet her.

Ellyria requested a bath and began shedding her purple gown from the night before. She stripped down to nothing and undid the braids in her hair. She went to stand before her mirror and looked herself in the eye, thinking hard.

Rhea rolled in her warm bath and helped Ellyria wash her hair. When she was finished, Ellyria caught the other elf's hand in hers.

"Thank you for everything Rhea," she said quietly.

"Of course, Lady Ellyria. Let me get your robe," Rhea replied, moving to Ellyria's wardrobe and pulling out a green robe for her to step into.

Rhea helped her dress and then they broke their fast together. As they were finishing, there as a knock on the door and Rhea rose to answer it. Ellyria wiped her lips and stood up as well.

Rhea opened the door to see Lindir standing there.

"Forgive the intrusion, has Lady Ellyria risen?" asked the elf, inclining his head.

'Yes, I am here," said Ellyria, moving into his field of view and beckoning him inside. Rhea held the door for him and then left the two of them alone.

"Good morning. I hope you were able to rest last night," offered Lindir kindly.

"Some," Ellyria conceded. "What can I do for you?"

"Lord Elrond would like your presence at the council meeting this morning," Lindir informed her," bowing slightly again.

"Is my uncle there?" asked Ellyria.

"Yes," replied Lindir with a slightly confused look.

Ellyria nodded and took a breath.

"Please take me to them," she requested and followed Lindir out.

They went to her father's council chamber and Lindir opened the door for her. She walked in and bid good morning to the two elf lords, Gandalf and her uncle Tarquin. The men rose respectfully when she entered and responded in kind.

"Please forgive my lateness. Carry on," she requested taking a seat and looking down at the map of Middle Earth that was spread out on a large table in their midst.

Lord Elrond inclined his head to her and continued speaking. Ellyria met Lord Thranduil's grey eyes and then dropped them to the map before her.

"As I was saying, there seems to be rumors and incidents of the resurgence of those we banished long ago to the darkness. These recent orc attacks are a little too calculated for my liking," said Elrond, staring down at the map.

"Calculated?" asked Ellyria with a frown.

"Yes, the attack on Lord Thranduil in his own woods could have ended much differently if you had not been there, my lady and now this tragedy right on the doorstep of Eastwood appears to be the result of planning. Planning more complex than the usual range associated with Orcs and goblins," insisted Gandalf.

"You think the leaders of each of the elven realms are being hunted down?" asked Tarquin.

"Two instances does not quite make a pattern let alone spell doom for us all," countered Lord Thranduil, glancing at the wizard and Elrond.

"Who else needs to be attacked before you will believe it?" demanded Mithrandir, his voice dropping a register and increasing in intensity.

"There is movement and distant fires in the north beyond the mountains. My captains have reported it before and nothing has come of it," said Thranduil, taking a drink of wine from the goblet before him.

"If we continue to do nothing, we will lose the opportunity to do anything," blustered Gandalf.

"Are you saying there is another war coming?" asked Tarquin quietly, glancing at his silence niece.

Ellyria listened to the men around her as their words gradually became a low rumbling of noise. As she stared at the map before her, the right hand corner nearest her seemed to grow darker in color, the letters of Mordor slowly disappearing into the inky blackness. Even as she watched, the darkness began to spread across the map, consuming all the lands before it. The forest of Mirkwood went red with flame before crumbling into darkness.

She drew in a sharp breath and looked out the window, trying to clear her mind.

"Ellyria?" asked her uncle beside her.

But when she looked back at the map, all was as it should be.

"Forgive me," she said quietly glancing around.

"We appear to be at an impasse. Lady Ellyria, what are you thoughts on this matter?" asked Lord Thranduil, watching her intently.

All eyes in the room turned to her.

"I agree that we should be ready but I do not think it will benefit us to found our plans on uncertainty and fear," she replied.

"What do you suggest we base on plans on then?" asked Lord Elrond.

"Facts," she returned, meeting his brown eyes.

"The general consensus is that the groups are coming down from the north although some have been spotted in the south. If there is a contingent amassing itself in the far north, Lord Erduin will know about it. I suggest we ask him how the matter stands from his vantage point," outlined Ellyria. "Scouts from any of our lands can be sent south to discover any unrest happening near Minas Tirith.

"Was that his great hawk flying overhead yesterday morning?" asked Thranduil curiously.

"Yes, it is here still. I will write to him today and ask our questions. I will bring his response back to this council as soon as it arrives," decided Ellyria.

She rose before any of the others could speak further.

"I shall go now to complete this task. If anything is needed in the meantime, my uncle will see to it. If you will excuse me, I can speak no more of death and war today," said Ellyria quietly, bowing her head to those present.

Lord Thranduil was the first to rise followed by the others. She met his gaze briefly and then turned to leave. Ellyria walked straight back to her chambers and closed the door. She took several deep breaths to calm her thudding heart and then sat down at her desk to write a reply to Lord Erduin's bird from yesterday.

When she was finished, she took the letter out to a tall building on the rear of the grounds. She made a clicking noise with her tongue and immediately, the great hawk flapped its way out of the building and bounded over to her.

She carefully attached the scroll to its leg and then sent it on its way. The huge black bird, heaved into the sky and was soon lost from sight. Ellyria watched it go and then wandered back over to the river with the burning stones. She sat down in the grass across from her father's burning rock and allowed herself some tears that had been threatening all morning. She stayed there for the rest of the day.

Lord Thranduil returned to his chamber and sighed deeply. He'd forgotten how exhausting it was being in Mithrandir's company when trouble was brewing. Elrond had not been helping either. He walked over to a side table and poured himself some wine then went to stand on his balcony, breathing in the afternoon air. The Elven king looked out over Eastwood and then up at the dark clouds that were gathering overhead. He sensed that something was coming but without any definitive information, there was nothing he could act on.

A soft sound separate from those of nature reached his keen ears and he glanced off to his left. His balcony came out just far enough that he could see the river below and the burning rocks down its center. Thranduil frowned as he recognized Lady Ellyria sitting in the grass and staring vacantly at the last burning rock. She did not move as he watched her and still the storm drew nearer, thunder booming in the distance.

Lord Thranduil put his goblet down and went for his hooded cloak of midnight blue. It took him a short while to find a way out to the lower river area and he walked slowly along the path toward where Ellyria sat on the ground. Even from a distance, he could see her eyes were wet with tears. He drew close enough to speak with her and she moved her head slightly in his direction to show that she was aware of his presence but remained silent.

"Forgive me, Lady Ellyria but a storm is coming. You should come inside," he urged, looking down at her.

There was a pause for several beats before she spoke, as though it cost her a great effort.

"How did you bear it?" she asked softly.

Thranduil frowned.

"Bear what?"

"Your father's passing? How did you bear it?" Ellyria asked again, this time looking up at him, pain in her eyes.

"Not well," he replied quietly. "Would that I could tell you that the pain goes away but it does not. At least, it has not for me."

She made a soft sound, as though her last hope had been dashed, her eyes shifting to the river, unfocusing.

Thunder rumbled and a flash of lightning lit up the sky.

"Ellyria, please," he pressed, moving closer to her and extending his hand down to help her rise.

She looked at his hand as if confused by it, then slowly reached out and clasped it. The young elf stood up and dropped his hand, looking back at the glowing rock in the gathering darkness.

"I spent so much time away from him. So many years. And I will never get them back. What I would not give to hear his voice one more time, call my name one more time," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Thranduil watched her and opened his mouth to speak but nothing he could think of sounded right or useful. Instead he removed his cloak, and carefully draped it over her shoulders, stepping in very close to her to close the clasp.

Ellyria looked down at the cloak in surprise and then up at him.

"I wasn't cold," she said.

"I didn't think you were," the King replied.

She smiled sadly through the tears in her eyes.

"If I knew the words to say that would ease your pain, allow you to breath again, I would say them. But in six thousand years, I have not yet learned what they are," apologized the broken elf, looking into her face.

Ellyria kept smiling and wiped her eyes.

"I do not know that such words exist. Your presence makes it a little easier," she said, looking down at the ground as her voice cracked on the last word.

Thranduil moved to stand beside her and very gently placed his hand on her lower back as he had done when they danced.

"Come," he urged, and this time, Ellyria obeyed, walking forward with him.

As soon as she started moving, he dropped his hand and merely walked beside her. She did not say anything else, nor did he, until they reached a staircase on the side of the house.

Thranduil held out his hand to her again as he paused before the first stair.

Ellyria looked over at it and then up at him, smiling warmly.

"I know you don't need it, my lady, but it's yours if you want it," said the King, unmoving.

Ellyria reached out and took his hand, pressing it gratefully and together they ascended the stairs back into the house. They just made it inside, when sheets of rain began to fall on the grounds behind them. Ellyria and Thranduil looked back out through the arch at the deluge and then at each other.

"Thank you for coming to get me. I would be out there still and I do not know if I would have noticed the rain," said Ellyria quietly.

Thranduil inclined his head to her and Ellyria's hands went to the clasp on his cloak. Thranduil gently prised her fingers away.

"Keep it, until you no longer have need of it," he said, letting go of her hands reluctantly.

Ellyria was about to reply when suddenly the King straightened and he turned his head slightly to the right.

"What is it, Feren?" he asked of the empty hallway next to them.

Ellyria looked over too as Feren rounded a corner and bowed to his king.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord. Some reports have arrived," said the brown haired elf, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Thranduil nodded and Feren hurried retreated back around the corner.

"Until tomorrow then," said Ellyria, looking back at Thranduil.

"May you find peace in your dreams," offered the King softly before turning away and striding down the hall after Feren.

Ellyria watched his retreat, looked down at his cloak, a reassuring weight on her shoulders and then walked slowly back to her own room.


	10. The Seat of Eastwood

The Seat of Eastwood

"Lord Erduin's answer has arrived, Rhea," said Ellyria coming into her room with a scroll. "Will you ask my uncle, Lord Thranduil, Lord Elrond and Mithrandir to join me in the council room in an hour?"

"Of course," Rhea flitted out the door and Ellyria sat down on her bed to read the letter.

It was much less definitive than Ellyria would have liked but the overall message seemed to be that something was not right. Activity was increasing beyond his borders but no attacks had been made on his realm nor even the scouting parties he was expecting as a prelude to an attack.

Ellyria sighed and got up to brush out her hair, giving her hands something to do to help her think.

She left her room shortly after with the letter in hand and went to the council room to wait for the others to arrive. Soon, they were all seated at the table with the map before them much as they had two days ago.

"Thank you for coming. I received an answer to my letter to Lord Erduin. I do not know that we will be able to make a plan based on any of his information," said Ellyria, handing the note to her uncle.

"He has not noticed anything?" asked Gandalf, a bushy eyebrow raised.

Her uncle handed the letter to Lord Thranduil across the table.

"He has noticed some activity but nothing to sound an alarm over," related her uncle Tarquin as Thranduil's grey eyes flew across the scroll.

"Hardly conclusive," he murmured handing it to Lord Elrond who contented himself with the paraphrasing of the others and handed it straight to Gandalf.

"Then we must be watchful of our borders and make sure all is in order for when the call comes," said Lord Elrond.

"You still believe this is something that will affect all of Middle Earth?" asked Lord Thranduil, looking sideways at Lord Elrond.

"I cannot yet see that. Can you?" asked Elrond, meeting Thranduil's patronizing gaze.

"No," relented the Elvenking, shaking his white head.

"So nothing is to be done then?" grumbled Gandalf, setting down the letter.

"What would you recommend, Mithrandir?" asked Tarquin.

Gandalf sighed in irritation but no answer seemed to be forthcoming from his great beard.

"I apologize that this was not more helpful but perhaps we are worried over coincidences," said Ellyria rising.

"My lady, before you go and indeed, before I depart, I would be easier knowing who speaks for Eastwood if another meeting must be held in the future," said Lord Elrond, looking pointedly at Lady Ellyria.

The room grew very silent.

Ellyria looked at Lord Elrond but was very aware of the penetrating stare Thranduil and her uncle were giving her as well.

After a moment, her uncle tried to intervene.

"My lord Elrond, we will…" but he stopped when Ellyria raised her hand.

"No, he is right. It is not fair to our people either that they do not yet have a leader," replied Ellyria shifting her gaze to her uncle.

"Summon our council, Celdnae and the captains to my father's hall. I will meet you there," said Ellyria, to her uncle with a determined smile.

He nodded.

Ellyria left the room before anything else could be said and hurried back to her own, her chest tight with the knowledge of what was to come. She went to her room and closed the door, leaning against it to steady her heart. She looked over at Lord Thranduil's cloak that she still had not returned and took a breath, calling for Rhea.

Ellyria sat down at her table before the mirror and looked at herself. She had more color than a few days ago and her eyes did not look so red as they had once been. She held her chin up and reminded herself that this day was always going to come though it didn't make it any easier.

Rhea came in and went over to her.

"Yes, my lady?" asked the young elf.

"Rhea, will you sit with me a moment?" asked Ellyria looking up at her.

"Certainly. Something troubles you?" she asked, sitting down beside Ellyria.

"A great many things have troubled me the past few days. It would be easier if my head and my heart were saying the same things to me but they are not. They seldom have."

"The heart is usually right," said Rhea quietly, not meeting Ellyria's eyes.

"That is what I am afraid of. Thank you Rhea. I will see you later tonight," said Ellyria, standing and straightening her dress.

Rhea clasped her hands and smiled encouragingly.

Ellyria walked to Lord Morgaine's hall, her mind in a storm and her heart aching.

She paused outside the doors and drew in a long breath then let it out very slowly.

Ellyria drew herself up, squared her shoulders and pushed open the door to her father's hall.

Many faces turned to look at her as she entered; all inclining their heads as she passed. She noticed Felinor out of the corner of her eye trying to meet her gaze but she kept walking. The councillors all bowed and moved aside; Celdnae smiled warmly at her. She moved past her aunt, uncle and cousin and the elf lords and Gandalf before reaching the raised dais. There were two stone stairs and then her father's seat, all in white wood, carved the in the shape of the very trees it was hewn from. And on the blue velvet cushion, sat her father's silver circlet.

Ellyria strode up the steps and picked up the silver diadem in both hands, looking down at it lovingly. She paused for a staring at it and then turned to face the assembled group.

"Thank you all for coming. I must apologize for the late hour of this meeting. The passing on of Lord Morgaine's circlet seemed to me the last act that would proclaim him gone forever. I was not ready to face that. I ask you to forgive this weakness that has kept uncertainty in the air and our people without a leader," said Ellyria, looking out at the elves and men.

She smiled and dropped her gaze back down to the diadem in her hands.

"For those of you who were close to my family, you will know that my father and I did not see eye to eye on a great many things."

The was a gentle murmur of agreement and mirth from her audience.

"But the ones that truly mattered, that were dear to our hearts, we were always of one mind. And so when he told me who he wished to succeed him, I was in complete agreement," Ellyria went on, moving forward down the steps.

"You may all rest easy in the knowledge that Eastwood has a leader," she continued, coming to stand before her uncle.

"As wise, strong and steady as any it has ever had," Ellyria finished, and extended the circlet out to her uncle.

There was a collective intake of breath and her uncle's eyes went wide before her.

"Ellyria," he said, with a bewildered frown, not making a move to reach out for it.

"He asked for you uncle and I wish the same, with all my heart," urged Ellyria.

"This is most unusual, my lady," said Hurenil coming to the front of the hall.

Ellyria saw Lord Elrond and Lord Thranduil, take step in her direction, out of the corner of her eye but they did not speak.

"It was his last wish, indeed his last breath, Hurenil. I will not fail him in this," said Ellyria firmly, not taking her eyes from her uncle's.

"Ellyria, I cannot take this from you. It is your birthright," protested Tarquin, standing perfectly still.

"It was never mine, uncle. My father knew I never sought his seat. You have been constant to Eastwood in ways I have not, cannot be," explained Ellyria, relieved when his hands finally came up to take the circlet from her.

"Lady Ellyria, think carefully about this path," counseled Lord Elrond beside her.

She let go of the circlet once it lay firmly in her uncle's hands.

"He said nothing to me of this," murmured her uncle staring down at it.

"Ellyria, dearest…" began her aunt Drina, looking from her husband to her niece.

"I do not wish this to appear to be open to debate, my lords; councilors," said Ellyria authoritatively, taking a step back and meeting the questioning gaze of all those around her.

"This is my father's will and mine. It not for you to protest but to accept and declare your allegiance to Tarquin Vortis, the Lord of Eastwood," announced Ellyria in a tone that she did not know she possessed.

She met the wide eyes of Captain Felinor through the small crowd.

"Captain, you may ring the bells so that the people know they have a leader once again," she commanded, looking directly at him.

He paused looking at her. She nodded to him once and he turned and left the hall.

"My lord," said Ellyria with a smile, reaching her hand out to her uncle.

Tarquin moved to her as if in a trance and followed her to the great wooden seat. He sat down uncertainly, and Ellyria gently took the circlet from his hands and placed it on his brow.

Tears sprang to his kind eyes but he kept them at bay.

"You are sure?" he asked softly enough that she was the only one who heard him.

"Yes, I could not be happier," said Ellyria truthfully.

"The people look to you," replied her uncle searching her face.

"They look to me only because I am the daughter of Lord Morgaine. Now I am Ellyria; nothing more," said the elf with a warm smile.

"You will always be welcome here and I would have your counsel," requested her uncle, taking her hand.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Still holding his hand, she got down on one knee and swore her allegiance to Lord Tarquin. Then she rose and stood off to the side, looking down at the others, waiting for them to comply.

There was a beat of silence and then Celdnae ascended the dais and said the words. That seemed to decide the majority of those assembled. Ellyria stood by and witnessed them all. Lord Elrond did not get on one knee but offered his hand in friendship and allegiance in peace and in war. Lord Thranduil met her eyes and she could see a storm brewing in them. But the words he said to her uncle were those of honor and respect, vowing to aide Eastwood should they ever have need of it. Gandalf inclined his head but said nothing, watching the rest of the congregation. The captains were the last to come forward. One by one, they knelt and swore their service to their new lord. Felinor returned as the bells started tolling in the distance and voiced his fealty as well.

"Thank you. We should speak to our people and I would ask that you all join us as a show of solidarity," said Ellyria, looking at the gathering.

Lord Tarquin rose, nodded to Ellyria and strode from the hall in the direction of the front gate.

Many elves were gathering before the iron gate at the front of the hall, and more were emerging from their homes and walking toward the growing cluster.

Ellyria stood beside her uncle as he addressed their people, a happy smile on her face. When the announcement was made, surprise rippled through the elves and Ellyria felt many eyes shift to her but she met them all with gravity and aplomb.

When Lord Tarquin finished speaking, Ellyria addressed them as well assuring them that this change was for the best in the times to come. That her uncle was another rock upon which they could continue to build their lives in safety and prosperity.

She bowed to the assembled elves and then turned and repeated the gesture to her uncle. The others followed her example and inclined their heads and placed their hands on their hearts. Ellyria felt tears in her eyes but she did not let them fall.

Tarquin looked from Ellyria to his wife to his son, at the future she had just given them. He smiled proudly and nodded to her. Drina clasped her hands, her own eyes wet, and embraced Ellyria briefly.

"You are sure?" she whispered in her niece's ear.

"Yes, aunt. Steer him straight," replied Ellyria with a smile.

Her aunt chuckled, smiling and turned to Tarquin, the new lord of Eastwood.

Ryndion also approached her but seemed unsure of what to say.

"Ellyria," was all he could manage.

"Tarquin will need you. Try to not to get into too much mischief," she said quietly, as the gathering outside the gates began to disperse as well as those behind her.

"The mischief I got into was largely because of you," he reminded her with a fond smile.

Ellyria smiled back.

"I will not encourage you any longer then," she promised, taking his hand.

He nodded to her and then went to stand with his father, who was speaking animatedly with Drina.

She watched her family and was aware of being watched herself. Ellyria turned and went back inside the hall, feeling lighter and more content than she had in the last few days. She opened the door of a sitting chamber that was a quick short cut to her own room and made it halfway through before a voice stopped her.

"Lady Ellyria, a word."

Her eyes widened at the coldness in the voice and she turned to face Lord Thranduil. He pulled the door closed behind him with enough force that it made her jump.

"It is just Ellyria now," she reminded him, but the words came out more softly than she would have liked.

His wintery eyes blazed at her, his face thunderous as he advanced on her, his pale green robes swirling around his legs.

"What have you done?" he demanded, as she fought the urge to back away from him.

"What my father asked of me," replied Ellyria, straightening her back.

"He did not ask you to give your birthright to your uncle," snapped the Elvenking, still coming toward her.

"Were you in the room, my lord?" she retorted.

"I will not believe it. You have a duty to your father and your people," boomed the King, stopping several feet away from her.

"My father is dead and my people will look to my uncle. You have given him your loyalty," said Ellyria, clasping her hands before her so they would not tremble.

"How can you just walk away from this?" questioned Thranduil, his tone unrelenting.

"I am doing the right thing for Eastwood and for myself," she asserted, bringing her chin up defiantly. "What does it matter to you what we do here?"

He frowned harder.

"A month ago, I believe we were no concern of yours," Ellyria tossed back at him.

"On principle, it is wrong. You would break his line?" growled the elf lord.

"I am hardly breaking his line by giving it to his brother. I am not wed nor do I have children," argued Ellyria, growing angry herself.

"Now any children you do will have no claim to Eastwood," continued Thranduil, his manner hard and disapproving.

"They will always be able to claim Eastwood as their home. I wish no more than that. I apologize if what we do here offends your sensibilities."

Ellyria moved her hands to her sides and did not realize they were balling up into fists.

Thranduil studied her intensely for a moment and Ellyria's hackles rose further.

"You are not staying here are you?" he asked quietly, searching her face.

"For a little while, yes. And then I think I may do some more traveling," replied Ellyria, unsure of why she needed to defend her actions to him. Or why she wanted to.

"Traveling," scoffed the King as he looked down on her. "Running away you mean."

Ellyria's cheeks went pink with anger.

"I am not running away," snapped the young elf.

"I spoke with Hurenil yesterday. It seems that before each long journey you took, it was precipitated by some painful event here in Eastwood," pressed Thranduil, ignoring her flaring temper.

"How dare you," she breathed, her fingernails digging into her palms.

"The death of your horse, Celeste and a broken pledge," listed Thranduil coldly.

"Are you calling me a coward?" she demanded, taking one step toward him.

"These are the actions of a coward and I am at a loss to reconcile it with what I know of you. You risked your life for me. How can you do that and also do this?" Thranduil continued, still searching her eyes as if they would give him the answers her lips were not.

"How can you judge me? You have done the same thing, my lord, only you have done it standing still," she accused, swallowing back the knot in her throat.

His eyes darkened.

"How is my leaving here different than you shutting out the world, cutting your own people off from it?" Ellyria challenged.

"I have always acted to keep my people safe from the savagery of the world. I made decisions and sacrifices for them that would have shattered you," snarled Thranduil, taking another step toward her, his eyes flashing. "I did not have the _luxury_ of a choice in leading my people."

"You are still acting out of fear. At the first hint of trouble in borders beyond yours, your first instinct is to turn your back. Are you content to let everything in this world burn except your kingdom?" she interrogated.

"You know nothing of this world. Of the darkness that has inhabited it. You think because you have seen a glimpse of one memory of mine, you have any understanding of the true meaning of fear?" said Lord Thranduil in a low brutal voice.

Ellyria drew in a breath and suppressed the shiver threatening to creep up her spine at his words.

"For someone so anxious not to be a disappointment, you certainly endeavor to be one," said the King coldly.

Ellyria gasped, her mouth flying open and tears flooding her angry eyes. She took a few quick breaths and kept the urge to lash out at his face under control.

She calmed herself with an effort, and then said emotionlessly, "I am not the only disappointment in this room."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at her but before he could berate her any further, she turned on her heel and took long strides away from him.

"Do not turn your back to me!" thundered Thranduil behind her.

"Do not presume to give me orders. You are not my father, nor my uncle nor any relation of mine that I would be compelled to listen to," she snapped, looking over her shoulder, pausing in her flight.

She turned her head enough so that she could meet his eyes.

"You are not my king."

She let the words hang in the air for a moment before storming out, slamming the door behind her.

Ellyria ducked into a side passage and flew up the stairs as she heard him wrench the door open. She ran up the steps, then down a hall, then another and up more stairs until she reached one of the flat spaces on the roof of the main hall. Hot tears of anger and frustration burned fiery trails down her cheeks as she choked down the urge to scream. She paced around the small space until she collapsed to the ground and put her head in her arms to sob. He had torn her open and she could not bear the thought of being so naked to him. Ellyria lay on the roof until the day began to wane. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away.

She felt sick at the thought of having to sit through dinner with him in the room but she could not be absent tonight. This would be the first night of her uncle being the Lord of Eastwood. She had to show her face and be happy.

Ellyria pushed herself to her feet and dusted off her dress. The hollowness in her chest was unnerving but she descended the stairs and went back to her room. She changed into a new dress of deep crimson on her own and brushed out her long hair, taking care to undo the braids around the crown of her head so that it did not look like she was also wearing a diadem. She practiced her smile in the mirror until she could do it convincingly and then rose to leave.

"Ellyria, we were wondering where you had gone," said Drina, as she walked up to her beaming family members outside the dining hall.

"Nowhere in particular," she replied with a smile.

"You look very regal, uncle Tarquin. It suits you," said Ellyria, kissing her uncle on the cheek.

"Thank you, Ellyria. I wish you would have said something to me sooner," he started to say.

"I know and I apologize for waiting so long. It was not fair to you. Will you forgive me?" she asked hopefully.

'Of course I forgive you," sighed Tarquin, clasping her shoulder.

Ellyria smiled and followed her uncle, aunt and cousin into the hall.

All the elves in the room, rose when Tarquin entered and did not resume their seats until after he took up his own, in Lord Morgaine's seat.

Ryndion sat on his father's left and Drina sat to his right. Ellyria took a new place next to Drina and sat down. In her periphery, she was aware of Lord Thranduil looking in her direction, though he was a pale blur. Instead, she met the anxious eyes of Felinor at the back of the room and smiled at him. He returned it though still concerned.

Dinner was easier than she thought it would be. Pleasant music played over the bubbling conversation and many that had once looked grim, were more at ease. Ellyria did not look in the Elvenking's direction once and spoke easily to those few who came up to the table to converse. Through it all, she kept smiling.

When she could stomach no more food and had had enough wine to dull her pain, she turned to Drina beside her. Others in the hall had left for the evening and many of the captains of the guard were engaging in a mildly uncivilized drinking game at the rear of the hall.

"Thank you for being supportive, aunt. It was no easy thing that I put upon your family today," said Ellyria, with feeling.

"Ellyria, you have honored us with this responsibility. I hope it will not prey heavily on your mind. You've been so careworn," replied her aunt kindly.

"I am easier in my mind and heart now that this is settled. I love you all very much," she whispered, leaning in and kissing her aunt's pale cheek.

"And we love you, Ellyria. Get some rest, my dear," urged her aunt, pressing Ellyria's hand.

She nodded and bid her aunt and uncle good night. Ellyria rose from the table and returned to her room without seeing another elf.

Rhea was there when she entered, putting a new blanket on her bed.

"Rhea, will you go to the kitchens and bring back enough food for several days?" asked Ellyria.

The blond elf paused, her eyes going wide.

"Are you still hungry?"

Ellyria laughed and it helped loosen the weight on her chest.

She went to Rhea and clasped the elf's tiny hands.

"No. I have decided to leave Eastwood for a time," she said quietly. "Say nothing to anyone when you go."

"Oh but you've only just returned," protested Rhea.

"Please," urged Ellyria, pressing her hands and then letting go.

Rhea nodded a little sadly and then hurried out a side door in search of food.

Ellyria changed out of her dress and into a thick blue traveling tunic, brown leggings and her stoutest pair of boots. The she pulled out a leather traveling satchel and began filling it with clothes.

"Going somewhere?" asked a voice behind her making her jump.

She whirled around to see Felinor leaning against the railing on her balcony.

Ellyria smiled at him.

"Yes though I do not yet know where," she admitted as he entered her room.

"Is this because of your father?" said Felinor gently.

Ellyria looked down at the ground.

"Among other things, yes."

"Will you at least give me time to pack my own bag then?" asked Felinor clasping her hand.

Ellyria looked up at him surprised.

"Felinor, I do not know if I will be returning. I cannot ask you to come with me," answered Ellyria, looking up at her friend.

"You don't have to ask," he replied quietly. "I do not have family here. I told you long ago, I go where you do."

Ellyria felt tears in her eyes and wiped them away.

"Thank you."

"Meet me in the stables in an hour. Don't go without me."

And in a blink, he had gone out the balcony and climbed up the arch back toward his own room.

Ellyria looked after him for a moment before going back to packing up her things. Clothes, a few pieces of jewelry her mother had left her, and a comb all made it into the leather bag. She went to the rack at the door for a cloak and then paused, a sharp pang going through her. Her brown traveling cloak hung next to Thranduil's shimmering midnight blue one. Ellyria replayed their argument in her head, and wiped angrily at her eyes that were betraying her. He had been so cold, so angry and so right.

She swallowed back her feelings and grabbed his cloak on the basic principle that it was warmer and of better quality than anything she possessed. Rhea came back with a small armload of lembas bread, cheeses, fruit and dried meats and helped her wrap and pack everything away into her bag. Next, she reached far out over the side of her balcony and filled a canteen with water from the falls next to her chamber. Ellyria then sat down to write a short letter to her uncle assuring him of her continuing love and support and her wish that he not worry over her leaving. Finally, Ellyria strapped both her swords to her back and turned to face her friend, who was watching her sadly.

She embraced Rhea and kissed both the girl's cheeks, pressing the letter into her hands.

"When they start looking for me, you may take this to Lord Tarquin. Say you found it on my desk in the morning. They do not need to know you helped me pack," requested Ellyria.

Rhea nodded, trying to keep from crying.

"I will see you again," Ellyria promised, before heading out the side door that Rhea had come back through. She moved quickly through the halls that were empty due to the feast going on below and made it out to the stables without seeing another elf.

She entered the warm glow of the stables and the familiar horsey smell put her at ease. Felinor was already there, his own stallion saddled and packed and was in the process of saddling Elin for her.

"You are sure you wish to do this, Felinor?" asked Ellyria for the last time, as she walked up to him.

He paused in buckling on her saddle and looked back at her.

"Yes, Ellyria. I would not see you go off on your own. Who knows what sort of mischief you'll get yourself into," replied Felinor with a smile.

Ellyria smiled and then added her satchel to Elin's back

"Did you pack any food?" she asked, leading Elin out the back of the stables.

"Yes I stole a few things from the kitchens on my way through," she heard him reply.

They led their horses out into the night and silently mounted them. Ellyria gave one last long look back at her father's hall and then the two elves rode swiftly out of Eastwood and turned their horses to the south.


	11. A Journey

A Journey

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" asked Lord Tarquin rising from his seat at the council table. Lord Elrond's brown eyes widened and Lord Thranduil went very still. Gandalf had left Eastwood in the early hours of the morning.

A tall, brown haired elf inclined his head to Lord Tarquin and reiterated that Lady Ellyria was not in her room and her horse was missing from the stables. As was Captain Felinor and his horse.

Tarquin frowned in concern and dismissed the elf.

He was about to speak when there was a gentle, almost apologetic knock on the door.

"Come," he called without looking at the door.

Rhea entered bearing Ellyria's note.

"I found this on her table this morning, my lord," she said quietly, handing him the sealed note.

"Did she seem well when she retired last night?" asked Tarquin, looking down at the diminutive blonde elf.

"Yes, she seemed more at peace. I helped her with her dress and then left her for the evening. Her bed has not been slept in," explained Rhea quietly not meeting her lord's eyes.

"Thank you, Rhea," replied Tarquin, sitting down heavily.

The two elf lords waited in silence while Tarquin read the short note from his niece. Lord Thranduil watched him read with mild trepidation.

"She has gone, perhaps for good. She wishes the family well and is pleased that Eastwood is in capable hands. She did not say where she was going," he finished, setting the note down on the table and looking blankly ahead.

"I made sure to tell her that I wished her to stay. That she would always have a place here," he tried to speak but words failed him.

"From what you've told me, Ellyria has always had a restless spirit, my lord. I do not think she will stay away indefinitely," said Lord Elrond, rising. Thranduil followed suit silently.

Lord Tarquin rose as well.

"Do not be afraid for her. She is a very capable elf. And now, I think it is time I returned to Rivendell. I will stop in at Lorien and let Celeborn know of what we have discussed here," said Lord Elrond, pressing his hand to his chest and bowing to Lord Tarquin.

"Thank you for your guidance and loyalty, my lord Elrond," returned Lord Tarquin, inclining his head to the older elf.

Lord Elrond moved to leave and Lord Thranduil took his place.

"I'm afraid I must return as well. There is more activity in my woods than I would like. Do not hesitate to send word if something is amiss in your lands," requested Lord Thranduil, bowing in kind to Tarquin.

"Thank you, my lord. I will."

Elrond and Thranduil were nearly at the door when Tarquin turned and spoke.

"My lord Thranduil. Did she say anything to you yesterday? Anything that might explain why she left?"

Elrond gave Thranduil a hard look but Thranduil replied in the negative.

"No my lord. I barely spoke with her yesterday. She seemed pleased," was all the Elvenking would say.

Tarquin nodded and resumed his seat at the now empty table.

Thranduil followed Elrond out.

"Will you come to my chamber a moment, Thranduil?" asked Elrond, as the other elf started to turn down another hall back to his own room.

He stopped and looked back at Lord Elrond with a frown but the lord of Rivendell was already striding away from him, confident that he would follow. Thranduil sighed in irritation and walked after Lord Elrond's swirling brown robes.

Once inside his chamber, Lord Elrond shut the door and then rounded on Thranduil.

"What did you really say to her, Thranduil?" demanded Elrond.

"Are you implying that I lied to Lord Tarquin…" began Thranduil, tilting his head to one side and narrowing his cold blue eyes.

"I know you lied to him. You spoke to her yesterday and it must not have been pleasant. You were furious at dinner last night and your glare stayed in her direction the entire time she was in the room. Ellyria, I noticed, took care not to look in your direction once," accused Elrond.

"You noticed a great deal," muttered Thranduil sardonically.

"What did you say to her?" repeated Lord Elrond, unimpressed by Thranduil's attitude.

"I fail to see how this is any of your business, Elrond," snapped Thranduil coldly.

"I would not like to think you drove her away," Elrond retorted.

"What difference does it make why she left? She is gone," finished Thranduil, his eyes dropping to the ground and some of the anger leaving him at the realization of what that meant.

"I am only sorry to see you part on such terms. Return to your realm, my lord. I will not keep you where you do not wish to be," said Elrond, standing aside and allowing the other elf to walk past him.

"May your realm continue in peace," Thranduil said before closing the door behind him and trudging back to his chamber.

A few hours later, both elf lords had taken their leave of Eastwood and headed back to their respective realms.

The seasons changed. Then again. And again.

Middle Earth carried on towards a slightly darker and darker future though few could feel it.

"My lord, might I have a word with you in private?" asked Master Viridian of the King one day.

Thranduil glanced at the healer in surprise.

"Of course."

The two elves walked in silence to one of the King's chamber and the door was closed behind them.

"May I speak freely, lord Thranduil?" asked Viridian, coming to stand beside his king as they looked out at a distant waterfall.

"You do not need to ask, Viridian," said Thranduil quietly.

"When you returned from Eastwood last year, something in you had changed. I had been hoping that with time, you would return to yourself but you have not. You did not part from Lady Ellyria on good terms I take it?" suggested Viridian, watching the king.

Thranduil glanced at the other elf with a frown but he could not maintain it and turned back to the falls.

"No, I...no," was all Thranduil could say as he thought back to their argument.

"Can you not write to her if you still have things to say?" Viridian urged gently.

"She left Eastwood in the middle of the night and did not say where she was going. I have no way to reach her had I anything further to say," muttered Thranduil, turning away and walking back into the room.

"Then perhaps you may not see her again…" began Viridian but the king cut him off sharply.

"I do see her again Viridian. That is the trouble. I can see her clearly in a room I do not recognize kneeling at the bedside of some dying human boy and here also in my halls, I see her standing on a pathway of white rose petals," said Thranduil starting to pace about the room, struggling to understand the meaning of his visions.

"Perhaps the simpler question, my lord, is do you wish to see her again?"

"Even were I to wish that, she was furious with me the last time we spoke. And for good reason. I hurt her, Viridian," admitted the king, pausing in his pacing, staring down at the stone floor.

"And why?"

"She saw my actions to protect our people in a different light and had the temerity to call me a disappointment," meeting Viridian's surprised eyes.

The other elf's eyebrows jumped high on his forehead.

"You have had others killed for less," reminded the healer quietly.

"She was lashing out and I responded in kind, too blinded by my own ideas about duty to see her distress. I am not proud of how I acted," Thranduil confessed.

"She was here for half a heart beat of time, I should not feel this strongly about her perception of me," said Thranduil more to himself than to Viridian.

"Forgive me, my lord, but it sounds as if you are distressed because you care for her," suggested the healer carefully.

Thranduil met Viridian's eyes and then looked past him.

"I cannot betray my wife," whispered Thranduil sadly.

Viridian looked at the floor and drew in a breath. He went to his friend and met the taller elf's sad eyes.

"My lord, no one doubts that you loved your wife but she has been gone for over two thousand years. Would she wish you to spend the rest of your days grieving in solitude or would she wish for you to find peace with another?" asked Viridian softly, meeting the king's confused gaze.

"You have been in pain for so long, Thranduil, and it has hurt me to see it. But there was a time last year when the darkness around you seemed to lift. I wish only to see this brooding nature calmed and I cannot help you," finished the healer.

He bowed to the king and waited for him to continue speaking or send him away.

Thranduil inclined his head to Viridian and the master healer left without another word, the king looking after him as he went. He turned and stared out at the falling water, thinking of times past and wondering about the future.

Far away, on one of the upper rings of white Minas Tirith, Ellyria stood outside, gazing at the stars and remembering the room in the Elvenking's halls that had brought them to the ground.

"Ellyria," said a quiet voice behind her.

She smiled and turned back to face her friend.

"Good evening, Felinor. How was the hunt today?" asked the elf.

"Fruitless. I have not seen an orc now for two days," grumbled the warrior coming to stand beside her.

"Perhaps that is a good sign," suggested Ellyria, turning back to face the north.

They were silent for a time before Felinor spoke again.

"Ellyria, you know where he is. We can go back..." he started to say but she shook her head against the idea.

"You did not see his face that day, Felinor. I would be afraid for my life the next time I see him," she said quietly.

"And yet you wrap yourself in his cloak each night and come here to stare back in the direction of his woods," accused Felinor gently.

"I know it is a foolish feeling, Felinor and if I could cast it away I would. I have tried to forget but even after how we parted, I still prefer his company to any other elf I've ever met," replied Ellyria.

"Except for mine of course," prompted Felinor, feigning being wounded by her words.

Ellyria laughed.

"Yes, except for yours," she conceded, still smiling.

"May I suggest a compromise then?" asked Felinor, looking at her seriously again.

Ellyria met his eyes expectantly.

"Simply write to him and say whatever you need to unburden yourself."

"Felinor I cannot write what I feel in a letter to the King of Mirkwood. I feel a fool enough as it is," protested Ellyria, blushing at the very thought.

"I didn't mean that. You could start with an apology. You've told me many a time you've regretted what you said to him. You did not start that fight Ellyria, but you walked out on it," Felinor tried again.

Ellyria looked down, pained at the memory and pulled his cloak more tightly about her.

"You must do something. I cannot have you buried in your own world of grief and regret any longer. It is not you," said Felinor firmly, clasping her by the arms and turning her to face him.

Ellyria sighed.

"I'm sorry, Felinor; I have been poor company. I will write to him. It will be difficult but I'm sure it will help," Ellyria agreed, nodding her head.

"I will fetch some parchment and ink right away then," said Felinor letting go of her and hopping down off the stone ledge.

"Felinor, it's the middle of the night," she protested, watching him go.

He merely looked back at her and winked then vanished into the night.

Lord Thranduil pulled the stack of letters and scrolls toward him and took a long drink of wine. Two wine contracts, a bill of sale from merchants in lake town and a treatise from Lord Elrond held his attention for several hours. He thumbed through the remaining letters with little interest, his long fingers flicking absently across the seals. Thranduil made to rise when the last letter at the bottom of the pile caught his attention. The wax seal was bright red and stamped with the rising sun of Eastwood. Thranduil picked it up and turned it over his hands, his light blue eyes going wide in recognition at the elegant script his name was written in on the cover of the envelope.

"Ehlurien!" called the king, rising quickly from his chair, his grey robes whispering behind him.

"How did this letter come?" he asked the surprised elf who answered his summons.

"On the barge from lake town, my lord, with the rest of them. Is something wrong?" asked Ehlurien, bowing nervously.

"No, thank you," replied the king, dismissing him.

When the elf had gone, he broke the seal and opened the letter.

 _My Lord Thranduil,_

 _I pray this letter finds you in peace and safety. I have spent many hours thinking on the last time we spoke and I am ashamed of what I said to you. I do not know the responsibilities you bear nor how heavy their burden. When faced with a small measure of such duty, your words rang too true: I fled. I do not know if I could have risen to such a task and did not possess the courage to find out. I appreciate the high esteem you once held me in and can only ask now for your forgiveness and forbearance, that it might cool any anger you may still feel. I will endeavor to do better in the hopes that, should our paths cross again, I will not fall short in your estimation. I count my time spent in your hall as some of the most peaceful moments of my life. Thank you for all you have done and may yet still do._

 _Should you wish to reply, letters sent to the King's Horse in Minas Tirith will reach me._

 _Ellyria_

Thranduil sat down at his table and read the letter again. And again.

Some hours later, Ehlurien returned to his chamber and politely asked if the king wished to dine here tonight.

Thranduil looked up in surprise at the passage of time and nodded to the elf who swept quickly away again.

Whatever had shifted slightly in him while Ellyria was with him in his hall and he with her in Eastwood before their argument, shifted more. He thought on the meals they had shared, the parts of his kingdom he had shown to her, his high chamber of stars and the dance she had asked of him. What her hand had felt like in his when he had walked up the stairs with her and the gentle pressure of her on his arm as they danced.

The king was recalled to himself when food was set before him.

"Move those scrolls from the table, Ehlurien, before you leave," requested the king, still holding her letter.

Some food passed his lips though he could not later say what it was that he ate. His gaze never left her letter.

He retired to his chamber that night, with it tucked in his robe, lost in his thoughts.

"Do you feel that Felinor?" asked Ellyria, standing out in the afternoon sun on the highest level of Minas Tirith that they were allowed facing Mordor.

"I cannot say what it is but something is changing. It is an unsettling feeling," replied Felinor, watching the black mountains of Mordor and the mountains glared back.

"Perhaps we should not stay here," suggested Ellyria, wrapping her arms around herself and frowning.

"Where would you like to go next?" asked her fellow elf, not taking his eyes from the mountains.

"Perhaps Rohan or Bree. Somewhere where the sunlight is … warmer and the fields greener," Ellyria said. "Although…."

Felinor looked over at her.

"How many days has it been since you sent that letter on a cart headed to lake town?" asked Felinor though he already knew the answer.

"It has been nearly two weeks," replied Ellyria. "I do not know that he will reply at all. I may be beneath his notice now."

Felinor remained unconvinced.

"It is a long journey from here to there and then over to Mirkwood from Lake Town. He may have only received it a few days ago," reasoned Felinor, thinking about the amount of traveling it had taken them to reach this city.

"Still, I do not know that I can wait here many months in the hopes that he will write something back to me. I have no right to think that he will."

"Do I have time to pack my bag?" asked Felinor, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

"We will wait another day or two and then head out. Elin is getting restless too," said Ellyria with a smile thinking on her impatient white horse.

"Do you regret sending your letter?" asked Felinor turning away from Mordor to look at her.

"No. I feel a weight has been lifted even though I have no way of knowing if he has read it or cared to. It felt good to write the words. Perhaps if I see him again, I will be able to find the strength to say them aloud," Ellyria murmured, walking into the King's Horse where they were staying.

Two days and no reply later, Ellyria and Felinor set out in the general direction of Rohan, though still debating their destination as they rode.

They crossed into the realm of the horse lords and Ellyria made her decision.

"We have been to Rohan before, seen it's hall and king. We have not yet been to Hol Narieth on its far eastern outskirts," she suggested, looking over at Felinor as they rode.

"True, we have not. I am content with any city so long as we do not have to have lembas bread for another meal," replied Felinor.

Ellyria laughed.

"On to Hol Narieth then."

The two elves steered their horses in a northeast direction and picked up a little speed. In another day, they saw the rise of the city's hill on the horizon and made it to the great wooden gates just before night fall.

They met the guards at the gates just as they were closing for the night.

"Greetings! We were hoping to find shelter behind your walls tonight," called Felinor as they rode up to the gate.

The four guards looked the elves up and down.

"Do you have any business in the city?" asked one of them.

"No we are merely traveling through and wished to see it," replied Ellyria.

"Come in then. You can take the main road until you see a sign for the Green Hilltop Inn. You may stay there while you reside within our walls," instructed the tallest of the guards, turning and pointing up a main dirt road.

"Many thanks. Peace be with you," said Felinor, leading his horse forward, Ellyria close behind. The houses and structures they rode past were plain but sturdy. None were above two stories high save the Hall at the end of the main road.

"There it is," indicated Felinor, turning his horse toward a green sign that read in faded letters, Hilltop Inn.

They tied their horses outside near a drinking trough and stepped inside. A chubby, good humored man behind the counter greeted them but did little to hide his interest once he noticed they were elves.

"Pleased to have you here. There are two rooms at the top of the stairs that are free," he said handing over two keys.

"Thank you. We have two horses out front as well. Do you have stables we might take them to?" asked Ellyria taking the small iron keys from him.

"Jacob will see to them, won't you boy?" called the bartender over his shoulder.

A small boy of ten or twelve with a mess of brown curly hair darted out from behind the counter.

"Yes sir!" he called.

Felinor watched him go and waited until he saw their horses were at ease with the boy before heading upstairs.

"Rest well, Ellyria. We'll explore the city tomorrow," said Felinor opening the door to his small but cozy room.

"You as well, Felinor," said Ellyria, nodding to him.

Once inside, she set down her leather satchel and took off her midnight blue cloak, hanging it on a peg near the door. She turned down the lamp in the room and went to the small window. She could see little of the city from her vantage point but knew they were that much closer to the edge of the King's forest.

The next day, Lord Thranduil was about to get up from his throne when a guard came running up to him.

"My lord. A group of twelve dwarves has been spotted wandering in our woods," announced the elf, bowing low to his king.

"Dwarves? See that they are brought to me," demanded Thranduil with a frown.

An hour later, Legolas and Tauriel led in a group of ragged dwarves and brought them before the king.

Most were grumbling about food but there was one who remained silent, his fierce eyes fixed on the king. Thranduil narrowed his eyes.

"What brings you to my woods, Thorin Oakenshield?" asked Lord Thranduil. The group of dwarves fell silent, looking to their leader.

The dwarf named Thorin did not speak but continued to glare at the Elvenking.

"Perhaps a word in private will loosen your tongue. Take the others to the cells," said Thranduil, waving one hand lazily in the dwarves' direction and getting up.

When the others had gone, the two kings spoke and fell short of an agreement.


	12. To Battle

To Battle

"Pardon my intrusion. Lord Darius wishes to have a word with both of you," said a young man dressed in a great coat of grey with chin length blonde hair to Ellyria and Felinor. He bowed low to both of them.

"You are not intruding. Have we done something wrong?" asked Ellyria as she and Felinor turned in the street to face the messenger.

"Not at all. His lordship holds elves in high regard and merely wishes to make your acquaintance," he reassured them. "May I have your names and which realm you are from?"

Ellyria met Felinor's gaze and then gave him the information.

"Please, will you follow me?" he asked turning around and heading up the street in the direction of the Great Hall.

"We have only been here a day. Does news travel so quickly?" asked Felinor of the young man's back.

"For guests of note, yes. His lordship likes to be kept informed," came the reply.

"We are hardly guests of note," protested Ellyria but the young man would not hear it.

They were taken into the Great Hall built of strong timber and braced with iron. Light came streaming in from windows high above them. Ellyria and Felinor were led to a receiving room where a middle aged man in robes of crimson and dark hair with silver streaks near the temples was speaking to a small knot of similarly well dressed men. They stopped speaking when the messenger entered the room and announced the visitors. Lord Darius dismissed the others and bid the elves come forward.

"Please, come in. You are very welcome in Hol Narieth and in my hall," said the lord, striding forward with an outstretched hand and a warm smile to meet them.

"My lord. Thank you for the invitation. I fear you think us more important than we are," said Ellyria, shaking his hand and inclining her head to him. Felinor shook his hand as well though a little awkwardly.

"Nonsense. The daughter of Lord Morgaine and a captain of the guard are far from no one. We do not often have elven visitors so I am pleased you have come. How is Lord Morgaine? I met him long ago in my youth," inquired the curious lord.

Ellyria's smiled slipped a little as her chest clenched.

"Lord Morgaine is no longer with us. Lord Tarquin, his brother, now rules in Eastwood," Ellyria heard herself say.

"A thousand apologies; I had not heard. I am so sorry for your loss. He was a good man," pronounced the human kindly, hoping he had not offended her too deeply,

"Thank you. He was a good man and will be missed," replied Ellyria quietly, still keeping a smile on her face, though tears were threatening in her eyes.

"You must stay in my hall while you explore the city. I insist. It would be an honor to have you both at our table," said Lord Darius warmly.

"Thank you, my lord. That is very kind. We are staying at the Hilltop Inn currently…" began Felinor but Lord Darius waved his hand.

"I will see to it that your belongings and horses are relocated to our guests rooms and my stables. If there is anything in particular you wish to see, Finnigan will take you," indicated Lord Darius to the same young man who had brought them to the hall.

"We appreciate your hospitality Lord Darius. There's no need for an escort. We'll return this evening," promised Ellyria with a smile.

"As you wish," agreed their host and bid them enjoy the rest of their day.

"What do you mean the dwarves have escaped?" growled Lord Thranduil stalking closer to his keeper of the keys, who had not moved from his bowing position and carefully kept his eyes on the floor.

"I do not understand it, my lord. The keys were on the ring below in the cellars where they are always kept and no one entered in the last few hours," explained the frightened elf, still not meeting his lord's eyes.

"Where did they go?" asked Thranduil enunciating each word.

"They go out through the wine barrel chute in empty barrels, my lord. Captain Tauriel and Prince Legolas are out hunting them now," the elf tried again.

"Pray that they return with the dwarves or some answers that it may mitigate your incompetence," snapped the elf lord, turning on his heel and striding angrily back to his throne.

"Thank you again for dinner Lord Darius and Lady Brynn," said Ellyria happily as she and Felinor exited the feasting hall amidst laughter and music.

"These humans know how to enjoy life," murmured Felinor as the two elves walked upstairs towards their rooms.

"They must when their lives are so short," remarked Ellyria.

They both walked out onto a wooden balcony that spanned the length of the hall and took in the cool night air.

"It is more peaceful here," agreed Felinor after Ellyria took in a long breath and let it out in a contented sigh.

"That unsettling feeling is gone. I don't know what it was," Ellyria said as they walked slowly along the balcony.

"It may have just been…" began Felinor but something caught Ellyria's ear and she turned to look for the source of the noise.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, coming to stand beside her.

"Do you hear that?"

Both elves stood as still as statues and listened, each barely breathing.

"There," said Felinor suddenly, pointing off in the distance to the smallest glowing light at the center of the darkness beyond the light of Hol Narieth.

Ellyria and Felinor moved to the end of the balcony, as close as they could get to the mysterious noise and the dim, flickering light.

"It's seems to get brighter and then die down again. And I cannot place the sound," whispered Ellyria, frowning in concentration.

"It is not Mirkwood nor Eastwood; what lies between them but farther away?" murmured Felinor.

"Laketown and the Lonely mountain," replied Ellyria instantly.

"The mountain… you don't think..." said Felinor glancing at her and not finishing his thought.

"The dragon? Let it be anything but that," hoped Ellyria.

The two elves watched the glow in silence until it melted into the black fabric of night with its surroundings.

Ellyria slept uneasily that night with dreams of a raging ocean of orcs that swept her away.

"I've heard enough of this," said Lord Thranduil turning away from Erebor and the King under the Mountain who was still threatening war though there were only twelve of them.

The arrival of Lord Dain of the Iron Hills was a mild distraction until Wehre Worms bit through the rocky hills behind them and black rivers of orcs issued forth. Then there was nothing but the brutish screaming of orcs mixed with the howls of his people, dwarves and men as they fought against the waves of senseless evil. Dozens fell beneath the Elvenking's blades as he slashed at anything that was not an elf, human or dwarf. His elk was slain beneath him as he entered the lost city of Dale and became surrounded by snarling foes. Swirling as gracefully as in a dance, he cut down all who came too close, opening a path for the elves who had followed him into the city. Lord Thranduil did not pause for breath until all was still around him and he had not but the company of corpses at his silvery feet.

"Did you feel that?" asked Ellyria, stopping in her tracks suddenly as they were leaving the market in Hol Narieth.

Felinor stopped as well, his sharp eyes on the ground.

"The ground is shaking," he murmured, looking up at Ellyria and then at the people all around them.

"No one else seems to notice," said Ellyria in a low voice watching those near her who had no reaction whatsoever to what the two elves were feeling.

"Should we tell someone?" asked Felinor.

"Tell them what? I don't know what is causing this. Do you?" asked Ellyria glancing at him.

"I should like to be up higher," said Felinor, eyeing the nearby rooftops.

"Perhaps we could be less dramatic about it and walk up to the ramparts near the south gate?" suggested Ellyria, taking her friend's arm before he made a scene.

"If you insist," sighed Felinor, trying to be lighthearted but the tremors beneath his feet were getting stronger.

They made their way to the edge of the city and asked permission to join the guards at the top.

The soldier they were speaking with was about to argue when a bell at the top of the gate began clanging loudly. It was soon joined by several others throughout the city.

"What does that mean?" demanded Ellyria, pointing up at the bell.

"Something's been sighted heading this way. You should return to the safety of the Hall," suggested the guard trying to push past them.

"We have better eyesight and will be able to tell you what is coming," argued Ellyria turning and running up the steps despite the protests of the guards, Felinor close on her heels.

Felinor and Ellyria stopped at a break in the stones of the wall before them to look southward. Both went very still. Ellyria's breath caught in her throat and she saw Felinor's knuckles turn white as they gripped the stone.

The men on the walls were shouting to each other about an advancing flood of blackness on the plains leading up to the city.

"Orcs," she breathed.

"Thousands," he confirmed.

"What?" exclaimed a soldier, staggering to a halt behind them.

"Those are orcs. Send word to Lord Darius. His city is about to be attacked," barked Ellyria, over the growing noise of panic behind them.

Felinor and Ellyria turned back to look at the city. People had flooded the main street, rushing to get to their homes and loved ones.

"We can outrun them," said Felinor, quietly beside her.

Ellyria paused for only a second.

"I do not know that I could live with myself. Maybe it's time to stop running," Ellyria said, looking at her friend, know what she was asking of him.

But his face broke into a dangerous smile.

"We will need our swords if we are going to be of any help here," affirmed the captain, looking up to the Great Hall at the top of the hill.

Ellyria smiled right back.

"Looks like you'll get to run across the rooftops after all. We'll never make it through the crowd in time," urged Ellyria, thankful she had opted not to wear a dress that day.

Without another word, the two elves ran farther down the rampart to a place where the rooftops were nearest and jumped onto it. With the lightness of their race, they flitted across the rooftops of the city, mindful of the fear below them. When they could go no farther, they jumped back to the ground and raced into the hall. Soldiers were forming ranks outside the doors. All was not chaos within however. Women and children were being escorted to the rear of the Great Hall by Lady Brynn. Lord Darius, in full armor was giving orders to other armored men around him, his son Tristan standing tall at his side.

Felinor and Ellyria ran up a side staircase to their guest chambers. Ellyria grabbed her two swords and buckled on her belt, sheathing the swords on her back. She dug around in her bag for her bracers, the only part of her armor light enough to carry easily on horseback and clasped those on her wrists. Her bow and quiver were standing by the door and she adjusted the swords on her back to accommodate the quiver. She pulled off the necklace she was wearing and met Felinor in the hallway.

"I wish I had the rest of my armor," muttered Felinor as they ran back down the stairs.

"They may have some that will fit you," suggested Ellyria, thinking the same thing.

"Human armor is unwieldy. I'd rather have nothing than fight in armor that was not made for me," answered Felinor as they came to a halt behind the knot of men around their lord.

They began to disperse when Lord Darius caught Ellyria's worried gaze.

"Ellyria, Felinor, there is a way out past the walls at the rear of the Great Hall," said Lord Darius, turning to go.

"We are not leaving, my lord. Where would you have us?" replied Ellyria coming to stand before Darius and his son.

"This is not your fight," protested the lord, looking back at them in surprise.

"Yes it is. I will not have it said that elves did not stand with you in your hour of need. We will not repay your hospitality with desertion," Ellyria proclaimed, meeting the lord's gaze.

Lord Darius nodded and put on his helm.

"Help guard the main gate. Tristan, you are in charge of the force within the walls. Hold the gate," commanded the father of the son, and looking meaningfully at Ellyria and Felinor.

Lord Darius began to stride from the hall but paused and looked back for Lady Brinn. Ellyria saw her meet her husband's gaze and nod to him bravely. Ellyria glanced at Felinor and then followed them and many other soldiers out into the sunlight.

"Where will you go, Legolas?" asked Thranduil as his son walked past him.

"I do not know," admitted the elf, pausing to look back at his father.

The Elvenking bid him find the ranger known as Strider.

Legolas nodded and began to turn away when Thranduil stopped him.

"Your mother loved you, Legolas. More than anyone; more than life," said Thranduil, trying to close his mind against the painful memory of her passing.

Thranduil met his son's pained eyes, bowed and then he was gone. The king stood still for a moment, unable to raise his head afraid that the weight of his heart would bear him to the ground.

Soft tears from the around the corner drew his attention and he moved to their source.

The lord of Hol Narieth, climbed on his white horse and led hundreds of soldiers away from the hall and down the main road. The heavy gates were open at the end of the road to let the city's forces through. All around them, people were still running to the hall; closing their doors and moving their families to the safety of the Great Hall.

Archers lined the ramparts over the gate and many more with swords stood just inside the gates, standing aside to let those who were heading out, move past them. Felinor stood off to the side with Ellyria as they reached the entrance and watched the last of the silver armored soldiers march through the gate.

"Close and bar the gates!" ordered Tristan in the same voice as his father.

The two thick wooden gates banged closed and three heavy metal bars were laid across them. Several rows of archers made ready before the doors and many more with swords stood behind them.

"This could be better," murmured Captain Felinor, looking around.

"Go and speak with Tristan then. He may listen to your advice, Felinor," suggested Ellyria. "I am going to climb that rooftop and stay there until my quiver is empty."

Ellyria caught the other elf's hand before he was able to move away from her. He looked back at her surprised.

"Felinor," said Ellyria, her voice catching a little as she looked at him. "Whatever happens, it has been an honor to live and fight beside you."

Felinor pressed her hand with a warm smile.

"I know," was all he said with a wink, and then he was striding toward Tristan.

Ellyria shook her head and with a little maneuvering, was able to get up to the second story roof of a nearby house. She watched Felinor confer with Tristan who nodded at him once and then begin to give commands. Felinor took up a position among the other soldiers on the ground and pulled both swords. He said something to the men around him that she could not make out but she heard their laughter as they pulled their own swords.

A large wooden cart was placed on either side of the gate entrance to block an escape route for rocs who tried to get into the city rather than fight the men before them. All the archers either moved up to the stairs on the walls or came to crouch on rooftops as Ellyria was doing. The soldiers with swords moved forward and then held their ground. Ellyria's rooftop was not high enough to see over the wall and so she waited, her heart thundering in her chest.

"I gather this is what you were after," said Lord Dain, now King under the mountain, handing a small box of gems to Lord Thranduil in the empty halls of Erebor.

Thranduil opened the box and once assured of its contents, bowed respectfully to the new King and moved to leave.

He was given a white horse and led his army away from the remains of Dale back toward their home. They were nearing the East Road into his woods when Thranduil, raised a hand to halt the elves behind him as a rider on a black horse charged toward him at full speed. Even at a distance, he recognized it was one of his guards and watched the elf's approach with a sinking heart.

"My lord, there is a force of orcs approaching our southern border. They have just reached Hol Narieth," called the elf, coming to a halt before his king and inclining his golden helm.

"How large?" demanded the king.

"Thousands. The city will fall without aid," the elf informed him emotionlessly.

"And then they will march on us I imagine. What is happening," growled the king.

"Perhaps it is a force that was dispatched too late and was meant to fight at Erebor," suggested Feren beside him.

"It matters not. Take this. It belongs in my chamber," ordered Lord Thranduil, handing over the box of gems from Lord Dain to the messenger. "And pull two hundred more from their positions around the Hall and have them join the back of this army. This day is not yet done it seems," said the King.

"My lord, it will be done," confirmed the guard and thundered off into the King's woods.

"I must ask you to come with me once more," said Thranduil in elven to Feren.

"It is gladly done, my king," replied Feren in kind.

He turned to the army behind him and called out orders to the next row of captains who in turn passed it to the next until the army was informed of their next battle.

Thranduil spurred his white horse southward and felt his army move behind him.

The noise of battle raged beyond the walls of Hol Narieth and those inside waited tensely. Ellyria waited one more moment and then lightly moved across the rooftops until she was near the wall. She leapt off the roof and landed on a set of stone steps leading up to the ramparts. Ellyria ran up the steps and looked out over the wall.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of so many orcs; the silver soldiers of Hol Narieth were hopelessly outnumbered and were being forced back toward their own gates even as she watched. Hundreds were circling around the defensive force and trying to scale the walls. Spears began to fly towards the archers on the walls. Ellyria ducked, drew her bow and fitted an arrow in one smooth movement. She rose up and fired down into the maelstrom below. A wicked looking hook attached to a long rope was thrown at her and she had to dive out of the way as it clanked to the ground where she had been crouched and then pulled tight against a notch in the wall. Dozens more were thrown over all the way back toward the gate. The archers on the wall changed targets to those who began climbing the ropes. Ellyria drew a dagger and ran along the rampart, cutting each rope as she went. The elf made it halfway before orcs began to spill over the wall, swiping their blades at the nearby archers.

She drew her own blades and did her best to clear a path in front of her. Archers dropped their bows and fought back with swords; the sounds of shrieks and the clash of steel filled her ears. Ellyria was quickly outnumbered as more orcs clambered over the wall than she was able to cut down. She narrowly dodged an ax to the skull, turned and leapt for the nearest rooftop, just barely clearing the rain gutter. The elf ran in an unpredictable pattern as spears and arrows glanced off the shingles near her feet and flew past her arms and head.

Ellyria bounded back to the roof she had been on near the gate just in time to hear the first ugly splitting sound of wood from the gate.

Several soldiers backed up at the sound.

"Hold!" cried Tristan, drawing his sword.

She found Felinor near the front of the line near where Tristan stood.

CRACK.

Another boom filled the air over the noise of the battle and the gate began to bow inwards, the iron bands bending as they strained to hold the thick wood of the gate together. Three more thrusts and the wood split apart wide enough for orcs to start crawling through.

"Hold!" shouted Tristan again, gripping his sword with both hands.

Ellyria and the other archers that had taken to the roof tops shot each one that managed to break through but the hole was growing by the minute as those outside hacked and tore at it. Soon, the numbers broke through and the first wave of orcs barreled senselessly into the ranks of soldiers before them.

Ellyria reached back for another arrow but realized her quiver was empty. She dropped her bow, drew her swords and leapt down among the men. The funnel was still working as all the orcs that were able to get past the gate charged straight ahead. The ranks of men held strong and a pile of dead orcs began to grow before them.

A roar from Ellyria's right drew her attention and she was barely able to get her blades up in time to deflect a blow from an orc charging between the houses at her. She feinted to the left and cut its throat but two more took its place. In her periphery she could see other orcs slamming into the side of the squadron before the gates. She had no time to look around her as more growling creatures attacked. Ellyria defended herself and fought the urge to panic when all she could see around her was snarling death with crude blades, pikes and axes. Men fell beside her screaming. A sword swiped her upper arm and she was forced to give ground or drop her blade. Two soldiers stepped in front of her, giving her a second to get her bearings.

The bottom two iron bars across the gate had been battered away and a seemingly endless stream of orcs were flooding through the opening. She spotted Felinor's whirling blades not twenty feet away and tried to move through the crush of men to get to him. The noise and chaos was so all consuming, she did not hear the elven horns sounding outside the walls.

Ellyria fought her way to the front where Felinor was holding his ground, Tristan fighting off to his left. She tried not to think about the bodies she was stepping on to get to him and slashed angrily at orc heading for Felinor.

"Ellyria!" he shouted over the noise.

"They are coming over the walls," she shouted back.

Several shouts of "Tristan!" caught their attention, and they turned away to see the source of the cry.

A huge orc stood over Tristan and as he drove his sword through its armor, the orc brought his ax down into the boy's side.

The two elves shifted instantly to cover the gap he had left behind.

"Pick him up," screamed Ellyria behind her as she cut down two more orcs. "We need to get him back to the Hall."

A large guard sheathed his sword and bent to pick up Tristan. He grabbed him by the arm and hefted him over his shoulder. Several men ran in front of the two elves who turned and followed the soldier carrying Tristan through the raging throng of men and orcs. Ellyria protected his left and Felinor covered his right as they ran back toward the hall. More soldiers were streaming down the road toward the battle, swords raised and bellowing at the top of their lungs.

The closer they got to the hall, the fewer orcs there were and gradually, they left them all behind. The soldier carrying Tristan paused, unable to carry him any farther but another guard who had been following them immediately picked him up and continued forward.

"Hold on Tristan," cried Ellyria as they neared the Hall entrance.

Behind them, the river of orcs flooding through the gate stopped suddenly and elves in flashing gold took their place cutting them down viciously. The Mirkwood army had spread out and flowed around the embattled city, creating a protective ring around the wall and stopping up the influx of evil at the gate.

Lord Thranduil made his way to the southern gate of Hol Narieth, felling orcs by the dozens as he went. His elves overrode the mass of orcs clustering around the gate, trying to force their way in. Several hundred orcs turned and fled back the way they came as the golden elves hacked down their companions.

"Go inside the city and cleanse it!" shouted Thranduil to one of his captains nearest the gate. The elf nodded and called to the elves around him to follow him through the shattered opening.

Thranduil stabbed a nearby orc through the eye and spotted Lord Darius fighting alone within a tightening circle of remaining orcs. The Elvenking charged and easily swiped three orc heads from their shoulders.

Lord Darius stopped in amazement as Thranduil turned his white horse, now splashed with black blood, back to toward him. He looked around at the elves now surrounding him protectively and leaned down on his bloodied sword to catch his breath.

"My Lord Darius, are you injured?" asked Thranduil, walking his horse up to the panting man.

"No. Lord Thranduil….you have… saved us," breathed the lord gratefully, looking up at the elf.

"The fight is not yet over. There are more orcs still within your walls," cautioned the king, focusing on the narrow view the battered, open gate provided.

"My lord! My lord!" came a shout from behind the two lords.

Lord Darius turned and half raised his sword, unsure of what to expect when a captain came running through the crowd of elves and staggered to a halt before Lord Darius.

"My lord. You must get to the Hall. It's your son," gasped the man, bending double as well as he was able in his armor.

Thinking of the son that he had just lost, Thranduil shifted forward on the horse, removed his feet from the stirrups and called down to Lord Darius.

"Get on. I will take you to him," said Lord Thranduil, holding out his left hand.

Lord Darius looked from the captain to Lord Thranduil. Then he sheathed his sword, grabbed the elf's hand, hoisting himself up on the horse that snorted at the sudden extra weight. He gripped the sides of Lord Thranduil's armor and begged him to hurry. Thranduil turned the horse and got it up to a gallop, passing easily through the hole in the gate and thundering up the main road toward the hall. Men and elves were still fighting a dwindling number of orcs around them but none intercepted them on their flight up to the hall.

When they were almost to the doors, a small group of orcs rushed at them with a bellow from around the side of the hall. Lord Darius dismounted, cut down a few and then ran for the doors. Thranduil's horse decided it had had enough and reared up suddenly nearly unseating him. When it was back down on all fours, Thranduil quickly jumped down as it bolted off down a side street. A few remaining soldiers and the elves that had followed their king engaged with the orcs. Thranduil drew his swords again and made short work of all the orcs foolish enough to get too close to his blades.

The king ran the orc before him through and when it dropped to the ground with a gurgling scream, Captain Felinor stood behind it. He pulled his own sword from the orc's back and stood staring at Thranduil in surprise.

"Lord Thranduil," blurted out the elf, his eyes going as wide as the king's.

"Captain Felinor," replied Thranduil, frozen to the spot, trying to understand what he was seeing and what it meant.

"What are you… is Ellyria…?" Thranduil tried to ask too many questions at once, his mind racing.

Felinor inclined his head to the king and spoke.

"She's inside with Lord Darius' son, my lord."

Thranduil glanced at the hall behind Felinor and then looked back at the elf.

"Go," offered Felinor, seeing the king's indecision.

He stood aside and Thranduil moved swiftly past him. The Elvenking pushed open one of the large oak doors of the Hall and shut it securely behind him, sheathing his swords. Inside were dozens of frightened women, many holding crying children. It grew quieter as they looked at the tall, silver armored elf in surprise and awe.

"Where is Lord Darius?" asked Thranduil of the crowd, hoping one would answer.

"Up that way," a young woman with raven black hair said, pointing to a staircase on the far right side of the room.

Thranduil nodded his thanks to the girl and strode purposefully to the stairs.

He moved swiftly up the wooden steps, feeling every beat of his heart and seeing the wooden passageways before him in sharp relief. There was a door at the end of the hall that had several guards standing outside of it. He swept over to them, their eyes going wide as they looked at him.

"Is Lord Darius within?" he asked, looking from one man to the next.

"Uh, yes, my lord; I don't know if…" began one man looking to his companions uncertainly.

"He may have need of me and so may his son. Let me pass," said the king staring down at the men as several elves came up behind him.

The man he had spoked to cleared his throat and turned to knock on the door. He opened it and let the King pass him.

Thranduil paused in recognition; this was the same room from his vision. He strode forward and stopped in the doorway. Lord Darius was standing over Lady Brinn who was tearfully clasping Tristan's shoulder as he lay unmoving on the bed except to gasp for air. The boy was already deathly pale. There was another man in the room holding a bowl of Kingsfoil.

But his cool blue eyes locked on Ellyria as she turned to look at him. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out as she slowly rose to her feet. Darius looked at Ellyria and then back at Thranduil as he came in.

"My lord," said Darius brokenly, unsure of what to say next.

"What can I do?" asked Lord Thranduil of Ellyria walking up to her and removing his gloves. He looked down at the bandage on her arm and was tempted to heal her and ignore the boy.

It took her half a heart beat to respond to his question; it looked as though she were desperately trying to say something to him but no words came.

She made herself look away from him and back to Tristan, kneeling back down by his side.

"He was cut down by an ax," she said quietly, gently lifting the bloodied fabric over the wound on his side so Thranduil could see.

"I can cure the poison but… the wound… I don't," Ellyria struggled to find words looking helplessly up at him.

"Remove the poison. I'll heal the wound," ordered Thranduil turning to put his mailed gloves down on a side table.

"But, you've fought today," protested Ellyria, staring at him with concern but the look he tossed her stopped her words.

"Oh please," gasped Lady Brynn, unable to stop from crying as she looked from the elves to her son.

"Stay back and don't interfere," cautioned Ellyria, taking a handful of damp Kingsfoil and rubbing it between her palms.

Lord Darius took Lady Brinn by the shoulders and helped her stand, turning her into his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around her while still looking at his son.

She began to say the healing words for poison in ancient elven as Thranduil knelt by her side, sweeping his cloak out behind him. He watched her close her eyes to better focus on the boy and then put his own hand out next to hers over his wound. At the right moment, Thranduil began his own elvish chant, his voice mingling with hers as they tried to save the boy. It went on for several minutes before he was aware of her voice dying away and soon his was done as well. He slumped down as much as his armor would allow, sitting back on his heels as the energy it took to rescue the boy sapped much of his remaining strength.

His eyes stayed closed and he bowed his head but forced himself to look up at Ellyria when she clasped his hand that he had been holding over the boy and brought it to rest by her side. She did not let go even though she was calling the boy's name and looking eagerly into his face. He tried to tug his hand free when he felt threads of her life flowing into his hand but she held firm.

The boy coughed and blinked blearily up at his mother.

"Mother," he whispered.

Lady Brynn broke down completely, pushing away from her husband and falling to her knees by her son. She buried her face in his shoulder and gently touched his face.

Lord Darius moved to stand behind his wife, looking down in earnest at the son he had almost lost.

"Tristan," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Father. I tried...I tried to hold the gate," Tristan gasped, looking at his father.

"You did well, son. The city is safe," his father informed him, tears in the corners of his eyes.

Satisfied that the boy would live, Ellyria turned to face Thranduil.

"You need to rest," she said softly, standing up and reaching out her other hand for his.

With an effort, he raised his other hand up to her and pushed himself to his feet, his vision blurring for a split second.

"Is Feren here?" she asked, keeping hold of his hands and looking up into his bloody face.

He managed a nod.

"Feren?" Ellyria raised her voice as Lord Darius came over to them.

"My lord, how can I ever repay you? You've saved my city and my son," began Lord Darius but Ellyria cut him off as politely as she could.

"He needs to lie down, my lord. You will be able to thank him at length when he wakes," Ellyria said as Feren hesitantly walked into the room.

"Help him," urged Ellyria and Feren was by his King's side in an instant, taking his arm.

"A room," murmured Thranduil quietly, trying not to sway on his feet.

"He can stay in mine. It is just down the hall," suggested Ellyria, letting go of Thranduil's hands and moving past the elves so she could lead them.

Though it seemed like the weight of Middle Earth itself was pulling down on his legs, Thranduil forced himself to move, leaning on Feren as they walked slowly out the door.

"This way. It's just here," motioned Ellyria as she walked down the hall.

Another of his captains took his other arm and the three elves plodded down the hall toward the door Ellyria was holding open. A small eternity later, Thranduil collapsed heavily onto the bed and Feren began carefully removing the king's armor. Ellyria hesitated in the doorway, and then turned to go.

"Ellyria," Thranduil breathed and she stopped and turned.

"You will be here when I wake."

It was not a request.

Ellyria smiled as tears came to her eyes.

"Yes. Perhaps not in the room but I will be in the city," she promised, looking down at him.

That satisfied him as he slipped into a dreamless oblivion.


	13. Rebuilding

Ellyria leaned against the door and caught her breath, her heart thumping wildly in her ears. She longed to go back into the room and offer to help with his armor or clean the black splashes of orc blood from his face and neck but she did not have the right.

She pushed herself off the door and went quickly downstairs. There seemed to be a great deal less panic among the women and most of the children had quieted down. A young woman with raven black hair and sharp green eyes ran up to Ellyria tearfully.

"My lady. Is Tristan…?" she could not voice the words, looking fearfully up into the elf's face.

"He is recovering upstairs," reassured Ellyria, clasping one of the girl's trembling hands.

"Oh thank you!" she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes and flying up the stairs behind the elf.

Ellyria smiled to herself and then hurried outside to look for Felinor and take stock of the situation.

The world had gone much quieter though there was still shouting and fighting going on, it was sporadic rather than constant. A few fires were being put out and soldiers were starting to help the wounded up the road to the hall. There were still maybe thirty men standing guard directly before the hall but Felinor was not among them. She looked around but did not see him anywhere. Growing nervous Ellyria stopped one of the soldiers before the hall and asked if they had seen him.

"The elf went around the side of the hall," confirmed one, pointing off to the left.

"Thank you," called Ellyria, drawing a sword and running around the side of the hall.

More piles of stinking orc corpses assailed her senses as she rounded the corner. Felinor was some yards away, stabbing downed orcs that were still alive.

"Felinor!" she shouted in relief, running over to him.

She swiped the head off one orc that snarled wetly and reached out for her leg as she went past.

Felinor glanced behind him and smiled.

"Ellyria!"

He kicked off the helmet of the orc at his feet and put his blade through its brain.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, keeping her blade out.

"A few scratches. Nothing serious. How's your arm?" he asked, glancing at her bandage.

"It will heal," replied Ellyria, with a shrug.

"Did you see him?" asked Felinor quietly, glancing over her shoulder.

Ellyria nodded and blinked rapidly.

"He saved Tristan's life."

Felinor frowned.

"After fighting?"

"He is unconscious in my room," said Ellyria, looking up at the hall and taking in a breath.

Felinor continued to watch her, not saying anything.

"We did not have time to speak but I do not think I saw any anger in him. More surprise than anything as I was to see him," said Ellyria, answering his unasked question.

"They arrived shortly after you ran into the hall with the boy. It is over now, though I am fairly certain we would all have died without their intervention. It is unlike the Woodland Realm to come to another's aid like this," murmured Thranduil.

"I don't understand it either. I will ask Lord Thranduil when he wakes," said Ellyria.

"Or we could ask Feren now," suggested Felinor looking over her shoulder and waving.

Ellyria turned around to see Feren striding toward them with his sword drawn.

"Greetings Captain. We owe you our lives," said Feren before Ellyria could speak.

Feren waved it away as he came to stand with them.

"It was gladly done. Had this force been unimpeded, it would have been at our gates soon enough and we were already on the march," replied Feren, inclining his head to Felinor and Ellyria.

Felinor and Ellyria frowned.

"Already?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, we fought a much larger host of orcs at the foot of the Lonely Mountain this morning. It has been a bloody and costly day for the Woodland Realm," explained Feren bowing his head.

"I am sorry for your losses. Is Lord Thranduil…?" but Ellyria couldn't find the words she wanted.

"He is resting and will likely be so for several days," answered Feren meeting her concerned gaze.

Ellyria nodded and looked away.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you've done. Especially if this is not the first battle you've fought in today. It's unthinkable. Where did they all come from?" wondered Ellyria more to herself than asking either elf.

"I too am troubled by their sudden number," agreed Feren looking around at the fallen creatures.

"We should help make sure the city is safe so the people can return to their homes," said Ellyria, after a moment of silence.

The two elves nodded and Ellyria turned to walk back toward the front of the hall when Feren stopped her.

"Ellyria."

She stopped and looked at him expectantly.

Feren looked a little embarrassed but said, "It may not be my place to say, but the King was pleased to see you."

Ellyria smiled at him.

"Thank you. And I to see him. It seems I am in his debt again," murmured Ellyria, inclining her head to Feren.

She turned away and left the two elves alone by the side of the Hall.

Many elves and soldiers were systematically sweeping all the streets of the city to ensure all the orcs had been killed. Ellyria joined a group and helped scout. They did not run into any orcs. A few hours later, the all clear was sounded with the bells and the doors to the main hall opened. Families slowly began to return to their homes. Many parents either carried their children or made sure their eyes were shielded from the death all around them. Going in the opposite direction was a steady stream of wounded soldiers and elves, making their way to the hall for treatment. Lord Darius came out among his men and thanked those who were returning to the hall. The soldiers who were able began dragging orc carcasses out of the city and started piling them up outside the walls. As the sun went down, they lit the piles on fire and continued clearing the city until all the orcs were gone from within. Ellyria moved inside at nightfall and helped the women wrap poultices and bring food to the wounded lying out in the hall. Lady Brynn was assisting those around her as well.

Near the early hours of the next morning, Ellyria felt a hand on her arm and blinked up at Felinor.

"You need to rest. If only for a few hours," he said, taking the bowl from her hands and moving her to the stairs.

"You forget, the King is in my room and so are my things," replied Ellyria.

"Does that mean you are forgoing sleep until he wakes? There is an extra bed in my room; you can sleep there and get your belongings in the morning," suggested Felinor leading her to his room.

Ellyria sighed and looked down the hall where several elves were guarding her door. Then she nodded and collapsed onto the small bed in Felinor's room, instantly asleep.

The next day, she rose and washed her face in a large bowl of water on the dresser. Felinor was still asleep. She decided to go down the hall and retrieve her bag and cloak. Ellyria quietly left the room and walked down the hall.

Only Feren was standing guard and he inclined his head to her as she approached.

"Good morning. I was hoping to get my things," requested Ellyria, bowing in kind.

Feren nodded and opened the door for her.

Ellyria stepped inside and paused as she looked at Lord Thranduil on the bed. He rested in a robe of deep purple, the orc blood cleaned from his face and not a blonde hair out of place. The room itself had been altered to accommodate a stand with the King's armor on it, already cleaned. A few candles and small lanterns cast a warm glow about the room and there was even a colorful tapestry hung over a wall depicting a forest in spring. She took in the room and then watched him breathe for a moment before remembering herself. She quickly collected a few items around the room and put them in her leather bag. Ellyria took his cloak down from a peg on the wall and with one last glance, walked out.

"Thank you, Feren. Were you able to rest yet?" she asked with concern.

"Yes, for several hours last night. Others need it more than I," he replied.

Ellyria nodded and went back to Felinor's room to change into clean clothes and re braid her hair.

She passed the day busily among the wounded, changing bandages and cleaning cuts. She went outside the wall briefly in the afternoon to pick more Kingsfoil from the side of the hill near the wall. The air smelt vaguely of burnt flesh as she walked past several smoking piles of orc corpses. Ellyria noticed that about half the elven force had left the city though hundreds remained, forming a protective circle around the walled city. Builders were already at the city gates assessing the damage and drawing up new plans.

Near the end of the day, Tristan came down to the hall as well, assisted by the young woman with raven hair who had asked after him. He went around to as many soldiers as he was able and spoke with them and thanked them for their service and sacrifice. He spotted Ellyria after a time and walked slowly over to her, holding onto the young woman's arm.

"Lady Ellyria, thank you for all your help," he said gratefully, inclining his head to her.

"Please, Tristan; it is just Ellyria. And you are very welcome. You have the King to thank for your life, not me," she gently corrected him.

"Is he well? I have not seen him…" asked Tristan looking around.

"He is resting still. In a day or two, he will wake," Ellyria explained.

The girl must have pinched his arm because he looked at her suddenly and then blushed.

"Forgive me; this is Lena. Lena, this is Ellyria of Eastwood," said Tristan introducing them.

Ellyria smiled warmly at the girl.

"Thank you for what you did for Tristan. I heard Lady Brynn speaking earlier; you and the King healed him. From the bottom of my heart, thank you," said Lena fervently, pressing Ellyria's hand with hers.

"You are most welcome. He should rest now. His wound needs time to heal," counseled the elf, looking at both of them.

Tristan nodded and let Lena lead him away.

It was evening of the third night and Ellyria stood on a small balcony above the hall overlooking the city. The cool night air was refreshing and the stars twinkled merrily above her. A full moon further illuminated the dark night sky and torches all around the walls proclaimed the city safe. The elven host still remained in a ring around the city, standing watch silently.

Ellyria absently touched the healing wound on her arm and turned to go inside for the night when she saw Lord Thranduil before her. She met his cool gaze, the moonlight glinting in his silver crown and the whirling design in his black robe, slashed with red.

"My lord," she said softly, her throat threatening to close as he walked forward to stand with her.

"Ellyria."

He said her name tentatively, studying her face.

She struggled to find something to say and instead whispered, "It's so good to see you."

Before Thranduil could speak, Ellyria looked down and took a small step back.

"I will understand if you're still angry with me," she began but he cut her off, closing the distance between the two of them once more.

"Angry? Then you did not receive my letter?" asked the King, searching her face.

Ellyria looked up at him in surprise.

"You wrote? No I received no letter. We may have left Minas Tirith before it arrived or something may have happened to it," Ellyria realized she was rambling and forced herself to stop speaking.

Lord Thranduil sighed in relief.

"No, Ellyria I am not angry with you. There was some truth in your accusations and I was very harsh to you. I could not see past my own ideas about duty to your pain and distress. I wrote...asking for your forgiveness," he said quietly looking at her anxiously.

Ellyria smiled at him.

"I will forgive you if you will forgive me," she requested, hardly daring to believe he wished to know her still.

"It is done then," replied the King, smiling at her.

Ellyria met his gaze for a moment without speaking and then lowered her eyes again.

"I feel I should thank you… I am in your debt again," said the elf but Thranduil held up a hand to stop her.

"Please. I have had nothing but thanks the last few hours from Lord Darius and Lady Brynn," explained the Elvenking.

"They are grateful, my lord. You saved their city and their son. You would feel the same if someone had saved Prince Legolas," Ellyria said.

Thranduil winced as though she had caused him physical pain and turned away to look out over the city.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to cause you pain," said Ellyria quietly, moving to stand a little closer to him, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Legolas is gone," said the father.

Ellyria's eyes went wide.

"Gone?" she asked in a small voice, fearing the worst.

Thranduil glanced at her and then amended his statement.

"He is not dead; he left. We parted the morning of the battle before the Lonely Mountain. I do not know when I will see him again," the King explained, looking up at the stars as though they could tell him.

"He has his own path to find. You are his father. It will lead back to you one day," Ellyria tried to reassure him.

Thranduil nodded once and sighed gently.

"The weight of his loss has been tempered slightly."

Ellyria smiled a little.

"By saving the city?" she asked.

Thranduil turned to face her.

"By finding you again."

Ellyria had nothing to say to that, her cheeks going pink as he looked at her.

"My lord, I…" began Ellyria but the King overrode her.

"Please Ellyria. When we are alone, you may use my given name," requested the Elvenking.

She looked up at him in surprise but smiled.

"I will try," she promised.

He nodded encouragingly.

"Felinor and I spoke with Feren while you were resting. He said you fought a battle at the Lonely Mountain that same morning you rode here?" asked Ellyria.

"Yes. The dragon is dead and I wished to reclaim what was mine," said the King. "I was not expecting the arrival of another dwarf army and the legions of orcs that descended upon us."

"After all the fighting, you still healed Tristan; it was dangerous of you to do so," Ellyria said, searching the King's face.

"I know my limits. I was not near them that day," replied the warrior.

Ellyria nodded.

"And you recovered the necklace you were seeking?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, it is in my hall now," replied the King, satisfied.

"I am happy for you."

Ellyria put a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.

Thranduil noticed and urged to her retire for the night.

"I don't wish to be rude," began Ellyria but Thranduil shook his head.

"I have been resting for three days and I suspect in that time, you have rested little. Go," he insisted, nodding back toward the hall.

Ellyria smiled and inclined her head to him.

She made to move away then looked back at him and said, "You will be here when I wake?"

Thranduil smiled warmly.

"Yes. May you pass the night peacefully, Ellyria."

"And you as well, Thranduil."

Ellyria went to her room happier than she'd been in a long time.

The next day, Ellyria rose and took extra care with her wardrobe and hair until she realized how long she'd been scrutinizing herself in the mirror. She stood up hastily and went out to find Felinor. He was outside already, speaking with Feren in low tones. Both elves quieted when she approached.

"Morning," she offered.

"Ellyria," they replied, and Feren inclined his head to her before taking his leave.

"The King has risen then," prompted Felinor quietly, watching her with a twinkle.

"Yes, he is well. We spoke briefly last night," Ellyria informed him with a smile and looked away.

"And…?" murmured Felinor.

"And we can continue as we were. He has forgiven me and I him," said Ellyria quietly and as a group of soldiers walked past them.

"I am pleased to hear it."

"Did Feren happen to mention if they planned to leave the city soon?" asked Ellyria, looking back at her friend.

"No. That is for the King to decide I imagine," Felinor responded.

Ellyria nodded.

"There is a scouting party leaving in an hour. I'll be going with them to ensure the area is safe and perhaps do some hunting. I don't think Lord Darius anticipated having to feed several hundred elves as well as his own people," Felinor told her.

"I'll see you tonight then. Good luck," said Ellyria heading inside. She broke her fast on a jam tart on her way to the main hall that was still serving as an infirmary for wounded men and elves.

She spent the morning with Lady Brinn and Lena tending to the wounded. At midday, they were joined by Lord Darius and Lord Thranduil who each spent time with those of their own who were still recovering. Ellyria smiled to herself at the few men who reached out a hand to shake the King's in thanks and Thranduil's brief struggle remembering their custom.

"Is he a friend of yours?" asked Lady Brynn quietly watching her watch the King.

Ellyria glanced at Lady Brynn and then down at the bandages in her hands.

"We met last year. We are acquainted," was all she said, looking back to Thranduil on the other side of the hall.

"Acquainted," repeated Lady Brynn with a smile of her own.

Ellyria smiled and looked at her.

"Perhaps 'friends' is a better term," she acquiesced.

"Or something a little less formal. I was terrified for my son the day you both saved him but I remember how he looked when he saw you. King or no, he cares for you," said Lady Brynn quietly, also watching him speak with one of his elves.

Ellyria smiled a little sadly.

"It is not so simple for elves I'm afraid," Ellyria replied.

"Nor for humans. I thought it impossible the first time I met Darius," Lady Brynn informed her before taking the bandages from her hands and going over to change the dressing on a nearby soldier's wounded arm.

Ellyria smiled absently as she watched the Lady of Hol Narieth change a dirty dressing when Lord Darius came over to speak with her.

"Ellyria, thank you for your continued help. I, among others, appreciate it," said Lord Darius kindly.

"It is nothing. I am pleased you were not also wounded," replied Ellyria.

"As am I. Will you stay with us a while longer or do you have somewhere you need to be?" he asked.

Ellyria paused and refused to glance in the King's direction again.

"I have no plans for the immediate future. I would be happy to stay if I can be of help here," she said.

"Good. I must go check on the progress of our gate. Thank you again," he said, and with one last look at his wife, he swept from the hall.

Ellyria was cleaning her hands when Lord Thranduil approached her, his sparkling brown robes slightly out of place in the plain hall.

"Do you have time to speak?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Let us go outside," she requested, drying her hands.

She walked with him in silence until they stepped out into the afternoon sunlight.

"Would you mind walking along the ramparts? I should like to be able to see my forest. Recent events have made me uneasy," said the King, leading her to a nearby stone staircase on the outer wall.

They walked up the stairs and stood together for a time in silence, looking out at the edges of Mirkwood in the distance.

"How long do you intend to stay?" she asked quietly.

Thranduil glanced behind him at the gate of the city that had not quite risen.

"I would not leave them while their gate is still being mended. Several more days; perhaps a week," replied the King.

Ellyria nodded and went silent, searching for the right words she wanted to say.

"Why did you stay?" asked Thranduil suddenly, turning to look at her.

Ellyria met his blue eyes then dropped hers to the ground.

"I have never been so afraid in all my life. I thought it would choke me," she whispered.

"You doubtless saw them all coming long before the humans. As an elf, you could have easily outrun even the fastest orc and made it to the edge of my woods. Out of harm's way," reasoned the Elvenking.

"Yes I saw them coming. I wanted to run," she admitted to him and herself.

She met his eyes,

"But I do not think I could have lived with myself if I had."

"You could have died, Ellyria."

She smiled at him.

"But you saved me. Again."

Thranduil smiled at her as well.

"Had I known you were here I would have come sooner."

Ellyria frowned.

"My being here nor the proximity to your forest should not be the only reason you rode out to help this city," said Ellyria quietly, watching him.

Thranduil looked back at his forest.

"Many of my people have died within the last few days. I swore to myself I would try to keep them from such dangers."

"That is not always possible. And strengthening ties with others should have some weight with you. There may come a time when you need the assistance of others," Ellyria replied.

Thranduil nodded once though she wasn't sure if he believed her or was just acting to humor her sentiments.

She waited for a minute to see if he would say anything else but he remained silent and contemplative.

"I should be getting back. Perhaps I'll see you later," Ellyria said, taking a small step toward the stairs.

"Until then," was his reply, though he kept looking straight ahead.

Ellyria nodded and left him on the rampart, heading back toward the Hall.

On her way there, she took notice of those around her. Many were rebuilding their homes that had been damaged in the fight. The men looked grim and determined and she barely saw any women out in the streets and no children whatsoever.

The elf went back to the Hall and made herself useful for the remainder of the day.

That evening, Lord Darius held a meeting with his senior councillors and invited Ellyria to attend.

She strode into the room and met the gazes of all those assembled, including the Elvenking, Tristan, Lena and Lord Darius' wife. Ellyria inclined her head respectfully and took up a seat beside Lord Thranduil, one of the few remaining in the room

"Thank you all for coming. I know that we are still in the process of rebuilding but I have every faith that our city will once again be what it was," began Lord Darius, looking around.

"The gates and walls will need to be rebuilt and we will need to make more room for our own dead."

Ellyria half listened to what Lord Darius was saying, thinking back to what she had seen in the streets and being very aware of Lord Thranduil's presence at her side.

When there was a slight pause, she spoke up.

"My lord, if I might hazard an observation?"

Those assembled shifted their attention to her.

"Please," prompted the city's lord.

"While it is important to shore up your city's defenses and take care of your dead, is there anything more you can do for those yet living?"

"What do you mean Ellyria?" asked Lady Brynn.

"Those that have lived through this attack are no doubt grateful to have done so but many are still afraid. I walked for hours this afternoon and saw no children playing in the streets and very few women without a man with her. There is much fear and uncertainty here," finished Ellyria glancing around.

"What do you suggest we do?" asked Lord Darius.

Ellyria thought for a moment.

"Is there a festival or celebration nearby in your calendar that you could perhaps bring forward? I think a distraction would help your people stop dwelling on what they've lost and remember what they still have."

"A sensible suggestion," murmured the Elvenking, nodding.

Ellyria brightened at his approbation.

"The next closest festival is the Solstice, two seasons away," remarked a Councillor with black hair and a long beard to match.

There was silence for another minute before Tristan spoke up.

"Father, if I might make a suggestion?"

Lord Darius smiled proudly at his son.

"Go on, Tristan."

"Perhaps a wedding?"

Lady Brynn looked sharply over at her son, tears starting in her eyes. Lena looked at Tristan in confusion.

With a little effort, the boy slide carefully out of his chair and down upon one knee before Lena who reached out to steady him.

Tristan took her hands in his and looked up into her clear blue eyes.

"Lena, I must ask your forgiveness for not doing this sooner. I love you more than anything and you've always made me want to do better, be more. If I am to choose one woman to be at my side for the rest of my days, then I chose you, now and always," said Tristan earnestly.

Lena pulled her hands back to wipe her eyes.

"Tristan...I… I'm not noble," she whispered, glancing over at Lord Darius and his wife, who was trying in vain not to cry with both hands over her mouth.

"You are more noble than I will ever be. Please, Lena. Will you be my wife?"

Lena broke down into sobs, shaking her head 'yes' and going to her knees as well. She hugged him carefully as the others in the room rose to congratulate them.

Ellyria stood up and moved congratulate the happy couple. When she had spoken a few words, she took the lead from the other councillors and quietly left the family together. Ellyria looked back into the room for Lord Thranduil but he was not there. She moved out into the hall but still did not see him.

Finally, out on the main balcony that overlooked the city, she caught sight of him walking slowly along the ramparts, his head sunk on his chest and his hands clasped behind his back. His posture, the slumped pose of his shoulders made her want to go to him yet she held her ground. Intruding on his thoughts was not something she felt she had a right to do despite their renewed friendship. She watched him walk alone under the stars as long as she dared and then returned quietly to her room.


	14. Joined Hands

Joined Hands

The preparations for Lena and Tristan's wedding were carried out with much excitement and love. The couple made their announcement to the people of Hol Narieth the following day, flanked on both sides by their families with Lord Thranduil and Ellyria in the background.

She saw the older elf smile as he watched them but always there was a quiet sadness to his eyes. Ellyria met with him a few more times during the week but their meetings were brief. The elf lord was much engaged with Lord Darius and the rebuilding of the city gates and fortifying some of the walls that had taken damage during the battle. Felinor was often out hunting with Feren for deer or wayward orcs as the fancy took them. Ellyria made a gift of a thin, silvery diadem to Lena who protested against such finery until the elf placed it on her brow and threaded the trailing strands through the girl's raven tresses. She was struck speechless when she looked in the mirror.

"Will Tristan recognize me?" she whispered, looking at herself in wonder.

"He will never forget your beauty on your wedding day," said Ellyria kindly, accepting the gentle girl's grateful embrace.

Ellyria found a seamstress in the village and had one of her dresses altered and embellished for the wedding.

The night before the celebration, Ellyria went out alone to a small balcony overlooking the city. The lights glinting in the windows and streets gave her heart that life here would go on. She bowed her head and thought of her own future; Lord Thranduil was returning to his realm the day after the wedding. He had made no further invitation for her to join him when he left and Ellyria couldn't decide what path would cause her the least pain; allowing more years to pass before she turned her horse toward the Woodland Realm or return with him in two days, never knowing how he truly felt. She lifted her eyes to the twinkling night seeking guidance and thought instead of the Thranduil's white room and floor of starlight. The elf took a long breath and then went back to her room.

The sun shone brightly the following morning over the bustling city as it prepared for the night's festivities. Carts of food and wine rolled up to the Great Hall and out into the wide courtyard behind the main building where the feast was to take place. Brightly colored ribbons snapped in the breeze from the spires of many homes and all the turrets of the main hall. Bouquets of fresh flowers lined the long aisle up to the main dais in the hall for the ceremony.

Ellyria took extra care getting ready, braiding her long brown hair around the crown of her head and letting the rest fall in soft waves down her back. Her dress of deep green draped loosely off her shoulders though clinging tightly to the rest of her body. The village seamstress had done an excellent job with some leafy embroidery over her heart and hips. The elf took one last look at herself in the mirror, took as deep of a breath as her dress would allow, then slipped noiselessly out of her room. She made her way to the bustling hall where many had already begun to gather for the ceremony. Felinor stood at attention next to the door closest where Ellyria had come down; he was in quiet conference with Feren.

"Guarding the door against enemies?" asked Ellyria lightly as both elves turned to her.

"Just waiting for you, Ellyria," smiled Felinor glancing over her.

"You look lovely," commented Feren, bowing slightly to her.

"And you both look handsome," she responded kindly. "Shall we find somewhere to stand?"

"If you have no objections, Lord Thranduil has requested that you join him for the ceremony, Lady Ellyria," Feren informed her, gesturing behind him.

Ellyria paused as her heart beat uncomfortably against her ribs.

"Of course, I will join him if that is his wish," acquiesced the elf, lowering her head a little. Felinor hid the smile that was threatening to spill across his face and followed in their wake. Ellyria walked through the crowded hall, draped with long swoops of white fabric draped over the heavy wooden rafters and bouquets of wildflowers from the nearby fields. She followed Feren through the throngs until he reached a row of assembled nobles, several of whom were clustered around the Elvenking.

Lord Thranduil wore a shimmering robe of grey, richly embroidered with vines and long sleeves slashed with bright crimson. She felt her chest tighten as his gaze shifted to her, his blue eyes brightening with anticipation.

The noblemen who were speaking to him noticed his wandering attention and glanced back at her then moved aside so she could approach.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lords," requested Feren, presenting her to Lord Thranduil.

"I have never beheld such a beautiful sight," breathed a middle aged man with kind eyes and silver streaked hair.

"Please, my lords, your own women are easily my equal if not better," placated Ellyria with a smile, her eyes moving back to the Elvenking's.

After a moment, the men moved away and Ellyria was left standing with Lord Thranduil.

"Humans do occasionally speak the truth," he murmured, "when beauty is in question."

Ellyria felt her pale cheeks growing pink at his compliment.

"Thank you, my lord," said Ellyria softly.

She held his gaze for another moment in silence before adding, "Thranduil."

Hearing his name from her lips, drew a smile of contentment from his own as she moved to stand beside him for the beginning of the ceremony.

Lord Darius, with Lady Brynn standing proudly beside him, made a speech about the greatness of their city, the resiliency of its people and the importance of alliances with those from other realms. Darius bowed to the King as he spoke the last; the Elvenking touched his heart and bent his own crowned head in acknowledgement.

Many tears were shed during the wedding ceremony as Lena was joined to Tristan heart and soul to the end of their days. Ellyria blinked rapidly and touched a tear from her own cheek as Thranduil watched her in his periphery. Everyone in the hall, with the exception of the elves, raised their voices in a soaring hymn as the binding was wrapped around their two wrists. When they were presented to the assembly as man and wife, they were greeted with thunderous applause. The young couple floated down the steps of the altar and down through the townspeople. Ellyria and the Elvenking joined the joyful parade following them out to the courtyard where the feast was to be held.

Ellyria paused at the threshold, looking out over the long tables and colorful banners flapping in the gentle breeze when she felt a gentle touch on her hand. Lord Thranduil smiled down at her and led her down the stairs and over to a seat at his side. The tables were already piled high with fresh breads and cheeses and there was an elven flagon of wine for every two seats. Thranduil pulled back a chair for her and she sank into it with an answering smile.

"That is a very large bowl of raspberries," Ellyria observed, glancing at Thranduil, while noticing that no other tables held such an offering.

"You favor them," was his simple answer, the setting sun glinting warmly in his eyes.

"You remembered," she said quietly.

He had no reply for her and instead they looked at each other freely as the voice of Lord Darius bid everyone be seated and raise a glass in celebration. Tristan and Lena took a seat at the long table on a raised dais facing out into the courtyard.

The bride and groom raised a large goblet and passed the cup between them, drinking deeply. Servers brought out large, steaming platters of meat and vegetables. The gathering fell to eating and drinking in earnest as the sun disappeared. Many stringed instruments and lutes took up a song that could barely be heard over the laughter and merriment of the evening.

Ellyria and Thranduil spoke over dinner but were soon drawn apart as others from the city wished to meet them. They moved away from each other among the townspeople.

When the dancing began, Lena and Tristan swirled around the open space as though they were alone; the glow of their love every bit as bright as the candles and torches being lit against on the coming night. Lord Darius begged the honor of her hand and as was custom, Lord Thranduil bowed low before a slightly nervous Lady Brynn. As she chatted with Lord Darius, she followed Thranduil and Lady Brynn out of the corner of her eye. The elf moved around the floor easily with Lady Brynn on his arm, her cheeks a little flushed. Ellyria pushed a gentle wave of jealousy away and smiled more widely for Lord Darius. Despite his propensity for dancing, she didn't see her Captain among the swirling guests.

Lord Darius' arm gave way to several others before Ellyria was able to move to a refreshment table and drink a glass of water. There was a pause in the music and then the soft strains of an old Elven melody gently swept through the night air. Ellyria stilled as she listened and then slowly turned back to face the opening square that had served as the dance floor. As the music grew, the people parted, glancing at the musicians curiously as they moved to stand off to the side. As the floor cleared, only one remained, his clear blue gaze fixed on her as he held one palm open at his side. An invitation.

Ellyria's heartbeat threatened to drown out the sweet elven strains as she set her glass down and went to him, his face breaking into a warm smile as she neared him.

"Thranduil," she breathed, dropping her head to him, "this is a human wedding feast. Perhaps we ought not to draw attention away from them."

"They can grant us one song and have the rest of the night for themselves," reasoned the Elvenking, raising his hand for hers. "I would dance with you again, Ellyria, if you wish."

She caught the fragile nature of the request, his blue eyes searching hers intently.

In response, the elf maiden smiled and clasped his hand firmly, moving in close to begin the dance. If Thranduil had been distracted or hesitant on their first dance, he was nothing of the kind now. His wintery gaze never left her face and he moved with her so smoothly their limbs seemed joined. Ellyria wanted to speak to him; to let him know how often she had thought of him while she had been away but she could not make the words leave her throat. She could only focus on the feeling of his hand on hers and the light pressure of his arm around her back.

The elves swirled around each other as gracefully as two autumn leaves floating in the air, rather than two beings on solid ground. As the music swelled and Ellyria swept away from him, she was gratified by the way he drew her back to him as closely as was decent for a public gathering. Slowly, they came to a halt in the center of the floor without having spoken a word more once the dance started. There was a beat of silence as Thranduil leaned closer to her, his eyes fixed on her parted lips. Quiet applause brought him back to himself and he stood away from her, glancing around. Ellyria dragged in a breath and followed his gaze out to the assembled townsfolk. The applause grew thunderous; Ellyria noticed several women openly weeping as they clapped.

"Should we bow?" asked Ellyria, out of the corner of her mouth.

"I had not intended to make a spectacle but yes, we should," he acquiesced.

The elves bowed low to the wedding guests as the applause continued to roar into the night.

"Come with me," beckoned Lord Thranduil, looking over at her before turning and striding toward the hall.

The guests parted as the elves moved through them, the applause dying away as new, livelier music filled the air. Lord Darius and Lady Brynn put themselves in their path.

"My lord, thank you for honoring us; such a display of grace I have never beheld," offered Lord Darius, inclining his head to the Elvenking.

"Thank you for your kind words, Lord Darius. May all evenings bring such joy and contentment to your people," replied Thranduil, inclining his head.

Ellyria could not be sure, but she thought Lady Brynn winked at Ellyria and then curtseyed to them.

Thranduil moved forward again and Ellyria followed quickly after him. But he did not return to their table as she had thought. Instead, he glided back up the stairs to the main Hall and turned towards the stairs leading up to their chambers.

Ellyria swallowed and tried to organize her scattered thoughts as she climbed the stairs behind him. The King dismissed the guards standing outside his door and held it open for her. Ellyria walked past him into his room and stopped several feet before a large fire crackling in the hearth against the cooling night air. The rich tapestries of Spring still hung on the walls and the rest of the room was lit with a glow from several clay lanterns.

She heard Thranduil close the door behind her and move into the room. The elf took three steadying breaths before the elder elf spoke her name.

Ellyria turned, thrumming with anticipation and anxiety over the elf lords' next words.

They locked eyes again.

"Ellyria,I plan to leave tomorrow and return to my own hall. But I cannot go until I know whether you would prefer to join me or to continue on your own path wherever it may lead."

Again, his words hung in the air with all the fragility of a spider's web.

Ellyria let out a breath.

"You wish me to come with you?" she asked, hardly daring to believe her deepest desire has been spoken aloud.

"More than my next breath; yes, I wish it," Thranduil replied instantly.

The room swam a little as Ellyria's bright eyes filled with tears. She dropped her head and blinked at the ground.

"I only offer you a place in the Woodland Realm, a home; when you have need of it. If your spirit would roam free instead, I would not cage it."

Ellyria drew in a shaky breath and wiped hastily at her eyes.

She looked up and met his anxious, ancient gaze.

"I do not mean to distress you," began Thranduil taking a small, conciliatory step towards her but stopped when Ellyria shook her head.

"Thank you, Thranduil. You have uttered the words in my heart," was all Ellyria was able to get out before her voice broke.

The Elvenking closed the remaining distance between them but forced himself to keep his hands at his sides.

"You wish to be free then?" he whispered, trying to keep the pain from his voice.

"No. I want to stay with you. The only future I'm interested in is one with you; whatever that may look like," the young elf clarified, hoping what she was saying wasn't too forward.

Thranduil let out a breath and dropped his head down in relief, his hand going for one of hers. He clasped it gently in both of his and pressed it to his chest, bowing forward as though she had just offered him the greatest gift he could ever receive.

His warm lips brushed over the knuckles of her hand before he looked up at her again.

"I am being selfish in asking this. I do not know what I have to offer you… it may not be enough," fretted the elf, still holding onto her hand.

"I would have you spend time with me, when you can spare it. A walk, a meal or a night looking up at the stars will be enough. I'm not asking for your whole heart; I know you cannot give it. What I want, in the time to come, is a small corner that I might call my own," stated Ellyria, looking earnestly up into his troubled face.

The old elf blinked wetly down at her and said brokenly, "Whatever shattered pieces of my heart you can find, you are welcome to. Perhaps they may find peace in your hands."

Ellyria swallowed the growing lump in her throat and put her other hand over his, kissing his knuckles in turn.

As she bowed over his hands, he pressed a kiss of his own to her forehead.

He stood a little back from her and sought her eyes.

"Something still troubles you?" asked Ellyria.

"I cannot...pledge myself…" Thranduil started to say but Ellyria pressed a finger gently to his lips to silence his concerns.

"I do not need a pledge nor do I expect one. All I want is you, nothing more,' said Ellyria firmly, letting her hand drop back down to his.

Thranduil removed one of his hands and placed it near her cheek, close enough that she could sense its warmth but he did not touch her. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand; his soft palm cupping her cheek as his thumb whispered over her cheekbone.

They stayed still as statues for many minutes, the only movement being his thumb as he touched her cheek. The candles burned lower and were close to guttering before Ellyria raised her head towards his, her lips seeking their chosen companions. The pressure of his mouth was no more than that of one of the thousands of dresses that had brushed her face as she pulled them over her head. She leaned against him so closely that not even light could pass between them. Thranduil moved his other hand around her waist and held her against him. His kisses remained gentle as Ellyria rested her hands on his chest and felt his heart beating beneath his robes.

Time lost meaning, as it often does for elves, and they broke their kiss only when several humans came laughing down the corridor outside the King's room.

"I should return to my own room for the night," breathed Ellyria, her pale cheeks now the pink of summer roses.

Thranduil nodded and reluctantly released her; the sudden loss of her warmth almost painful.

"We shall ride together tomorrow," whispered Ellyria with a brilliant smile.

"The dawn cannot come swiftly enough," agreed Thranduil.

Ellyria went to the door and after a brief look back at him, was gone. Thranduil stayed staring at the door for a time, then went to his window to await the break of day.


End file.
